


First Ammendment

by XakliaAeryn



Category: Castle, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-07
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XakliaAeryn/pseuds/XakliaAeryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back on Earth, John and Elizabeth find themselves at the centre of a scandal that rips them apart and only New York's bestselling crime writing duo can help bring them together.  Set during The Return, but slightly AU in that they never received 'the call' and Elizabeth started seeing everyone after the dinner.  Latter half of season 3 for Castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hitting The Fan

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of them, I just love them so much I can't help but play with them. :-)

* * *

“Elizabeth!” John Sheppard’s scream rang in her ears as everything else faded into a dull hum in her ears.

She had felt a sharp, quick pain in her abdomen and assumed she had been hit by some shrapnel from the impromptu explosion of gas bottles. She leaned back against the wall and tried to take a deep breath but suddenly found it an almost impossible task. She pressed her hands to where the pain had been and felt her clothes were damp. Pulling them away she saw bright red liquid, which she identified as blood, coating her hands and looked up at John as he ran over to her from across the warehouse.

“I’m bleeding,” she slurred as she told him her problem. He grabbed her arms and looked at her hands, panic covering his face. “John?”

“I don’t know, ‘lizabeth, I don’t know,” he told her, his voice thick with emotion as he tried to move her clothes away from her wound.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she reassured him calmly. “It’s ok,” she cooed, placing her hands on his chest and curling her fingers into his shirt. She felt decidedly sleepy now, her mind felt like it was filled with cotton wool and she was loosing the ability to keep herself on her feet against the wall.

“Elizabeth, you’ve been shot,” he pressed his hand against her stomach firmly and she cried out in pain, loosing the strength in her legs against the pain. She pitched forward into his arms as he shouted behind him, “Call an ambulance! ‘lizabeth’s badly hurt!” He gently lowered them both down to the ground and he supported her head as he lay her down next to him, she felt like a rag-doll being positioned by a child. He hurriedly took off his shirt and pressed it to her wound and she groaned, trying weakly to roll into a foetal position facing him, but she simply didn’t have the strength and he easily pushed her on to her back. She heard him call out something else, but she found it difficult to focus on the individual words. _Am I dying?_ She asked herself, her eyes feeling heavy but trying to fight the sensation. “Hey! Hey! Stay with me!” he commanded; it was an order despite how gently he said it to her. He had taken her face in both of his hands, levelling his face with hers and brushing the hair out of her eyes. She vaguely registered that someone else was knelt next to her, must have taken over applying pressure since both of John’s hand were on her face. “Help’s on the way, just stay with me, ok? Stay with me,” he told her, quirking a smile at her.

“John…I…” she felt something in her mouth that wasn’t saliva. It was getting harder to speak and her tongue wasn’t responding how she was used to it doing so. She tried to swallow but found it was too hard and the metallic taste in her mouth only got worse the more she tried to get rid of it.

“Don’t try and talk ‘lizbeth, save your strength,” he smiled, eyes filling with tears as he did so.

“No…I nee…need to tell you…” she stumbled over her words, finding it difficult to co-ordinate breathing and manoeuvre her tongue to speak. “’m sorry,” she felt tears rolling down her temples as she tried to tell him before it was too late. She lifted a trembling hand to his face and he caught it in one of his and nuzzled her palm, placing a kiss in the centre then simply held it against his cheek, her fingers curling around his fingers. “I…I…”

“No, no, you don’t need to tell me,” he closed his eyes, dropping a tear down his cheek. “I know, ok? I know,” his smiling attempt to comfort her was waning, his features betraying his attempt at being calm.

She couldn’t find enough air. Her vision was greying out. Couldn’t feel her hands or feet anymore. “John!” she cried weakly.

“No! Ok, you’ve got to fight! Fight and stay with me!”

She tried. She really did.

She just couldn’t.

* * *


	2. Our Story Begins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where our heroes being their journeys

_ Seventy-Two Hours Earlier _

 

Kate sipped at her cappucino as her eyes flicked over the report of the latest homicide to grace the boroughs of New York. It had been a quiet week, relatively, and Kate had found some time to look over one or two cold cases she had in the top drawer of her desk. The office was quite peaceful this morning; phones ringing, the elevator dinging and the murmur of her fellow officers talking around her – the usual hubub. After a workout in the gym this morning, she felt quite peaceful and relaxed.

Until she felt his presence behind her that is. She could feel herself tensing the longer he was silent, leaning on the back of her chair and looking over her shoulder. She felt him lean down next to her ear, she felt frozen with her cup nearly to her lips.

“What is it, Castle?”

“You missed a bit,” he teased and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“All right, genius, where?” she looked over the paperwork, she’d filled in all the appropriate boxes, signed in the right places, there were no spaces left blank. She glanced up at him with a frown.

“Right…there,” he swept his thumb gently over her top lip and their eyes caught and his breath caught in his throat as he pulled his hand away slowly. He held up the foam on his thumb for her to see with a quirk of a smile as she gaped at him. He looked away as he wiped the foam of on a napkin from her desk and broke the spell, and she cleared her throat and tried to get her thoughts back on track.

“Umm, thanks,” she gave him a quick, nervous smile.

“You’re welcome,” he returned her smile, looking just as nervous as she did. “So, uh, what we looking at today?”

“I was just looking over an old case, seeing if anything jumped out at me,” she flipped a sheet of paper over in the manila folder. “Weren’t you supposed to be writing your perfect crime for Nikki Heat _not_ to solve?” she joked. Ever since he’d announced he was going to attempt to write the perfect crime she’d had serious doubts. Even as an outsider to the writing industry she could see the huge pitfall that lay before him if he decided to write this one; how could Nikki solve a crime with no clues? She’d told him as much of course, she’d never been one to shy away from telling someone the truth if she saw a flaw in their plan; which made telling Richard Castle, the spinner of great tales and whose ego would barely fit through the elevator doors in the morning, that his forthcoming plot was less than foolproof all the more satisfying. Especially when he stuck to his guns and tried to write it regardless of what anyone else said.

“Surprisingly well,” he surprised her, leaning back in his chair confidently and fiddling with a pen in his left hand as he spoke.

“Really?”

“No,” he all but collapsed in his folded arms over her desk. “You know when you just write and write and write then find yourself in a hole?” He looked up at her for confirmation only to see her confused expression, “Well I’ve seemingly skipped the writing stage and just found the hole, and the more I think about it – the deeper the hole gets.”

“Well, I warned you, Castle, there is no such thing as a perfect crime,” she sipped her cappuchino, eyes still on her report. “And if there were, there would be nothing interesting about it.” She almost heard him start pouting with a large puff of air, glancing sideways at him over the edge of her cup confirmed he was pouting over it. She sighed, deciding to give in and ask, “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed and sat back, looking off into the distance it seemed. “Anyway, that’s not why I came down here, although don’t think that I don’t appreciate the ego battering,” he dug his hand into the pocket inside his jacket with a wicked look appearing on his face; a look Kate knew meant he was planning something involving her, usually something she wasn’t going to be happy about. He held out an envelope to her and she put her coffee down as she took the letter from him before sliding her thumb underneath the lip and opening it.

“What’s this?” she slanted her eyes at him suspiciously.

“Wow, you really have no patience do you?” he teased her, knowing it wasn’t really true. She seemed to have infinite patience for some of her cases, at the same time as never being still.

“A party? You’re inviting me to a party?”

“Ooo, a party? Whose?”

“Yeah and when is it?” She looked up to see Ryan and Esposito approaching from behind Castle. She had thought she was being quiet, but apparently the twosome had superhero-esque hearing.

“Oh no, ‘fraid not boys, only got two tickets, one for me and one for Beckett, she is after all the…”

“…inspiration for the book,” they both finished in unison with Castle.

“Yeah yeah, we know that. But dude, why do _you_ need a ticket?” Ryan carried on. “It’s _your_ party.”

“Yeah, that’s lame dude,” Esposito shook his head, looking disappointed in him.

“Yeah but, my publicist only gave me two,” he told them. Castle looked back at Beckett, quietly smirking behind him.

“You’re whipped, man,” Ryan laughed.

“So…what? I just call her and demand tickets? She’ll eat me!”

“That’s why you shouldn’t be in business with your ex-wife,” Esposito shared his pearl of wisdom, earning a glare from the writer.

“Yeah, call her Castle, tell her you want to invite more people,” Kate said in that daring tone of voice. “That is unless you’re too chicken,” she sipped her drink as he whipped around to face her, the flirtatious look she cast over her cup was too much to his already cornered mind. Caught by her gaze he barely registered the boys doing chicken noises behind him until she laughed and broke their gaze.

“All right, I will!” he told them, grabbed his over coat and strode to the end of the desks. He faltered there, then turned to the elevators, “After I’ve had a drink.”

* * *

 

John had to admit to feeling a little jealous as he knocked on Elizabeth’s front door. She’d been given a beautiful little apartment in the suburbs whilst he had been left base-side with barely any time to look for a place himself. He sighed deeply and started to idly thumb through the mail he’d picked up downstairs while he waited. _Bill, bill, spam, letter with Washington DC stamp (probably some stunning international job offer), plain envelope with the address hand written and a New York stamp on it._ He flipped the envelope over to see if there was a sender’s address and his eyebrows nearly leapt through his hairline as he gasped at the name he saw, then nearly spilled all of the mail on the floor as Elizabeth chose that moment to open the door.

“John? You okay?” she asked, an amused little smile creeping over her face as she watched him scurry to regain control over the errant mail.

“Uh, yeah! Hi ‘lizabeth! Umm,” he looked down at his hands. “I uh…I got your mail for you,” he smiled up at her.

“Thanks…I think,” she laughed as he passed over the letters awkwardly, looking at what she’d been sent as she stepped aside for him to come in. She didn’t get past the first one before he thrust another one under her nose.

“You have to open this one now,” he told her as she glanced up at him with an odd look. She laughed a little and took the one he’d given her while tossing the rest on the table next to the door.

“What’s got you so worked up?” she asked, flipping over the letter casually and sliding a thumb under the sealed flap.

“Do you realise who that letter’s from?” he asked wide-eyed.

“Yes, it’s from Rick,” she replied, removing the folded paper and pieces of card from within.

“Rick?! That’s Richard Castle you’re talking about there!! _The_ Richard Castle! Derek Storm? Nikki Heat?”

“Yes, I know who he is John, we used to go to college together,” she walked into her living room as she started to read the letter. Realising he wasn’t following, she turned back to the hallway only to find him all but gaping like a fish at her. “John? Are you okay?”

“You know Richard Castle?” he walked up to her slowly.

“Yeah, in fact we used to date,” she teased, slanting her eyes sideways to watch his jaw drop. She slipped the piece of cardboard out of the envelope and read through it quickly, only stopping when John dashed around to peek over her shoulder. His cheek gently touched hers as she shot a glare at him. His eyes cast over her face and he cleared his throat, looking a little sheepish and backing off a step or two. Elizabeth swallowed and refocused on the invitation, trying not to let his earlier proximity throw her too much.

Another minute passed as she read the invite and she could feel John’s bottle excitement behind her until he all but exploded, “Well? What is it?”

“It’s an invitation to the launch of Richard’s new book, _Heat Rises_. Huh,” she walked into the kitchen as she teased him. “Look at that, I get to take someone with me.” She kept her back to him as she put the kettle on to boil, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to tease him if she saw his desperate little face following her. She could practically feel him bouncing with excitement behind her as she took two mugs out of the cupboard above the kettle and carried on muttering to herself. “I suppose I could take Carson, I caught him reading _Heat Wave_ the other day…or maybe Zelenka, he seems to have a real appreciation for literature…” she trailed off with a quick glance over her shoulder only to find herself quickly turned by the shoulders to face him.

“Elizabeth, don’t tease,” he said slowly, eyes completely serious as they met hers which were on the verge of laughter. “And don’t think I’m above begging, because I will…” he left the statement hanging. She smiled and took hold of his arms as he continued to hold her shoulders gently.

“John,” she tried to steady her voice as her amusement threatened to bubble over. “Would you…like to…come to Richard’s book launch with me?”

“Oh thank God! Yes!” he looked elated at the prospect. She laughed as he sighed in relief.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d go with anyone else,” her smile faltered a little as she saw him evade her eyes. “Did you?”

“Well, you know,” he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I’m probably not the first guy you think of when you think of books, but Derek Storm was kind of what helped me get through Iraq.” She gazed at him for a minute, taken aback by his honesty, “What?” he asked uncomfortably.

“Nothing,” she said quietly and shook her head. The urge to kiss him on the cheek came over her then, but she resisted. She had sensed in the last couple of weeks that their relationship was changing, into something more comfortable yet intimate, but she found herself scared of breaking such a beautiful relationship for something so carnal. She sighed and turned back to the kettle, “I’ve just never heard you talk about Iraq is all. It’s good to hear you talk about it,” she smiled over her shoulder as she poured hot water in to the tea pot.

“Yeah? The shrink they assigned me back then would probably disagree with you,” he joked. “So, uh, what do I have to wear to this thing?”

“Knowing Richard, it’ll be the whole nine yards black ties and cocktail dresses,” she picked up the invitation to check.

“A tux?!”

“Huh, he’s toned it down a bit since we last met, dress blues for you and an evening gown for me,” she nodded as she retrieved two cups and put sugar and milk in them.

“Evening gown?” his voice was closer behind her and had a distinctly dirtier tone. “I’m going to get to see you in an evening gown?”

She cleared her throat before she teased back, knowing he was stood right behind her looking over her shoulder, “Yes, and who knows how short it may be.” She turned her head to look at him and his proximity made her breath catch in her throat and unconsciously lick her lips. She fumbled for the teapot to start pouring, needing something to try and ground her mind.

“Elizabeth?” he all but murmured next to her ear and she could only hum in response. “A cup of tea needs a tea bag, no?”

* * *


	3. The Woman In The Red Dress

* * *

Despite it being Elizabeth’s invitation to the party, John had insisted on picking her up and driving her to the venue. He toyed briefly with the idea of hiring a flash car to try and impress one of his favourite writers, but after a quick look at the prices, not including the insurance, he thought better of it. As much as he wanted to be _that_ guy, he had other plans for the money they had saved up whilst living in Pegasus, and the rental car the SGC had given him was just fine for taking Elizabeth to a party and home again. He had recognised his slightly insane idea for what it was, luckily, before he had gone any further; he knew he didn’t need to try and impress her. They had been friends for years after all, he had hoped they would always be; he just had to remind himself not to go overboard and show off.

Stepping up the stairs to her front door, he drew a deep breath, raising his hand to knock on the door. Before he could knock on the door he wiped his hands over his face and through his hair with another sigh as he tried to calm his stampeding heart. He and Elizabeth had never been out together like this before; a few celebration nights here and there whilst on Atlantis and they just happened to move around the celebrants together didn’t count in John’s opinion.

This was a date.

The mere thought had freaked him out quite a bit whilst he had been getting ready. In fact he had floundered so much that he had eventually run short on time and flown around his quarters, throwing on his uniform, finding his keys, his hat, his wallet and Elizabeth’s rose to get ready in time. Now, standing before her door at zero-hour, John found himself faltering again.

That was until the door opened, revealing the vision that was Elizabeth Weir. Resplendent in an elegantly simple, strapless, crimson red dress. The fabric seemed to wrap comfortably around her torso and gently emphasise her chest, cinched at the waist with a delicate crystal clasp, leaving the remaining fabric to drape down to the floor and smooth over her hips. His eyes travelled back up to her face, leaving his jaw almost on the ground, and focussed on her beautiful face. Her hair was down around her shoulders in gently fashioned curls; he’d been so glad when she started growing it out, he thought she was beautiful whatever her hair looked like but the longer locks made her more feminine. Her make-up was light and natural, no bright colours, but her eyes were striking. Soft gold and bronze eye shadow, with precise black eyeliner defining her gorgeous green eyes with black mascara drawing him in to their depths.

He saw her lips move and knew she was speaking but didn’t really hear what she had said until she repeated it, “John? Are you okay?” She sounded amused as she watched his reaction to her outfit, glad to have the shoe on the other foot after the tea incident the other day. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to make it through this evening. Not with her looking like that anyway.

“Umm...yeah, yeah, just,” he found himself mumbling his words in response to her and he swallowed to give himself some time to collect himself. “You look amazing,” he complimented her quietly, almost shyly and he saw a blush rise up her neck at his comment.

“Thank you,” she replied quietly with a gentle smile. “You look rather dashing yourself,” she teased with a sultry voice, watching a blush to match hers engulfed his face and he suddenly became very interested in his shoes. “One thing though,” she stepped up to him and John suddenly saw that there was a split in her dress, all the way up to her waist but closing high up on her left leg. All the air seemed to leave his lungs and he found himself coughing as her hands came up to his tie.

“Sorry, think I swallowed a bug,” he offered weakly to which she laughed, almost a giggle John thought.

“Come here,” she smiled and used her hands on his shoulders to stand him so he was facing her then started to straighten his tie. “Did you get dressed in the dark?” she asked, quietly teasing him as she gently took hold of his tie and tightened it. His mouth flapped like a fish out of water, exactly like he felt really. He couldn’t take his eyes off Elizabeth, running them greedily up and down her figure, stopping a few times on the expanse of beautiful creamy skin her strapless gown presented him with; long elegant arms, the long slope of her neck and the fantastic vision of her chest, covering just enough that she wasn’t indecent but leaving enough exposed that he couldn’t help but fantasize about what lay beneath the fabric. “John?”

“Mmm…yeah?” he could barely get around all the syllables, his tongue felt like rubber in his mouth and he dragged his eyes up to her beautiful face again to find she was still looking at him with that expression which said _‘I am amused by your cuteness despite having just asked you a question I’d like a reply to’._ He hoped that would bode well for him tonight since he couldn’t imagine his mindset ever changing while she was in that dress.

“Would you like to come in for a minute? I just have to finish my make-up and grab my wrap and purse,” she stood to the side of the door and he stepped in, tripping over the bottom of the door which found him face to face with Elizabeth’s breasts. To her credit, she didn’t move but when he stood upright quickly he apologised and continued to move swiftly through her home to the living room, cursing his new-found clumsiness. “I hope you can manage to wrangle those limbs before we get to the party,” she teased and he heard her move upstairs.

He sat down in the front room, only then realising that he hadn’t given her the rose he’d spent over an hour choosing this morning. He swore to himself and tried to get his mind back in the game. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a date after all. Granted it had been a long time since the last one, but that was no excuse for the way he was at the moment. Standing and shaking himself, as if to shake the cobwebs from his mind, John heard Elizabeth coming back down the stairs and took a deep breath. Elizabeth was his friend. He could do this.

Except when she walked in the room, his jaw dropped again. The train coming off the back of her dress made her look all the more elegant and John wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time today why she was taking him to this party when she could have picked Carson or that new scientist Dr. Branston or whatever his name was. He seemed far more suave and suited to this kind of social gathering.

“Ok, I’m ready,” she told him, picking up her clutch bag from the side table in her living room. He stepped up to her and handed her the rose with a shy little smile and a tiny shrug, feeling like he was ten years old with his first crush. “Thank you John, let me just put it in water and we can go,” she smiled at him.

As she walked away he heaved a deep sigh and looked skywards, shaking his head in disbelief that she had turned him into an amoeba. Upon her return, he offered her his arm with the most gentlemanly bow he could muster, loving the sound of her laugh as he did so, then escorted her out to his waiting ‘carriage’, which was in fact a Toyota Denali.

 _Let’s face it, who’s going to really see the car?_ John thought as they pulled off.

* * *


	4. Introductions

* * *

The answer was everybody. John has miscalculated the press who would be covering this event, so when Elizabeth had told him to pull up to the front of the Raddison hotel and about a hundred flash bulbs went off, he had been quite surprised.

And embarrassed. He repeated to himself that he didn’t _need_ to impress Elizabeth, but when you are stuck behind an Enzo Ferrari, one tends to forget all the speil that came before. Elizabeth must have looked across and seen the expression on his face, because she reached over and took his hand as it lay on the gear stick and squeezed it.

“John, it doesn’t matter,” she smiled, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

“How did you know?” he almost gaped at her.

She shrugged with a coy smile, “I know you; it’s always about the toys.” She winked and he laughed, shifting the car in to gear and pulling in to the space next to the red carpet left by the Ferrari.

“You wound me madam.”

“Oh please, I only speak the truth,” she replied as their doors were opened for them.

“Good evening, sir,” the valet stood to the side as John stepped out, feeling more than a little awkward. “Would you like me to park your car, sir?”

“Uhh, yeah, thanks,” John handed the keys over and took the stub in return as the boy stepped up into the driver’s seat. “Oh wait!” he stopped the kid from closing the door and started to peer around and on to the back seat.

“Looking for this, Colonel?” Elizabeth held up his uniform cap with a grin as she came around to his side of the vehicle. He breathed a sigh of relief and took the cap from her before closing the driver side door and letting the valet drive it away. He donned his cap and offered her his arm, which she took with a smile before turning to face the red carpet. He tried his best to look confident as he walked with her, occasionally stopping so she could have her picture taken at which point he stepped aside and allowed her the time in the spotlight. Each time she looked back at him, surprised, but he shook his head and stepped back. He pretended to ignore the disappointed expression she had as she turned back to the photographers. However, the fourth time, the photographers had insisted on them both being in the picture. He reluctantly stepped forward and started to stand at attention next to her, however, she slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close to her. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before he mirrored her action to which she smiled broadly and turned to face the paparazzi. He cleared his throat quietly as her scent invaded his being and his hand settled on her slim waist underneath the train, then turned to pose with her, still feeling awkward in the situation.

After that picture, she leaned in to speak in his ear, “Don’t worry John, most of these people have no idea who they’re photographing, they just want pictures, they’ll find out who they are later. I highly doubt any of ours will make it to print.” She smiled at him as he laughed and they moved on down the carpet to repeat the pose another four more times. John could feel himself getting tenser as they carried on, until they were finally in the foyer and someone was taking Elizabeth’s shawl and offering to take his cap.

“No, thank you,” he turned the concierge away with a tight smile. He felt like he needed something to hold and keep his hands busy or he may not make it through this evening without wanting to shoot someone. Elizabeth took him by the arm and took him to the side of the foyer away from anyone else.

“John? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just…cameras make me uncomfortable’s all,” he shrugged, still feeling their lensy glare upon him even though the wall between him and them.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m sorry,” she laid a hand on his arm comfortingly.

He nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath. He wanted to tell Elizabeth about being paraded around by his father during his childhood in order to make him seem like the perfect family man for the corporation, but he knew that this wasn’t the right time. He didn’t want to make Elizabeth upset at the start of the night; wanted her to enjoy their evening together – their date. He smiled at her and told her again that he was all right before taking her arm and escorting her into the ballroom, ignoring the unconvinced look written all over her face.

After their tickets were checked, they were let in to the huge ballroom, decorated with silver and blue drapes overt the walls and balloons floating on the ceiling. There were tables and chairs, laid with blue table cloths and silver cutlery and crockery, around the edge of the dance floor in the centre. There was a live band on a stage at the far end of the hall playing some soft jazzy music with a few older couples swaying to the beat on the dance floor, while others either mingled around the tables and talked or flooded the open bar.

“Elizabeth!” a deep voice cried happily from behind them. Elizabeth turned towards him and dropped his arm.

“Richard!” she reached out her arms and the two hugged briefly before Richard took her hand and stood at arms length to admire her. She laughed and turned from side to side as he pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips and blew an exaggerated kiss.

“How are you, my dear Elizabeth?” he asked smoothly, oozing with charm as he leant down and kissed her hand with a smile.

“I am doing wonderfully, thank you,” she smiled back as he straightened and clocked John standing next to her. “How about you? I must say, I was surprised to receive an invitation after so long,” she teased, their hands dropping.

“What can I say, for my first one you were incommunicado and try as I might, no-one seemed to know where you were,” he cast another almost suspicious glance at John who silently watched them as they reunited, before returning his gaze to Elizabeth. “So where were you?”

“I was on a diplomatic mission,” she informed him calmly and John marvelled at her ease of telling him the truth, but not the whole truth. However, it looked like Castle didn’t completely believe her; if the grin on his face was anything to go by anyway.

“Come on, Elizabeth, you can tell me,” he goaded.

“Richard, if past experience is anything to go by I most definitely cannot tell you,” she laughed back and John wondered how serious that comment was.

“So, who’s your friend?” he asked after a little playful pout. John wasn’t entirely convinced he had dropped the subject though; he’d have to be careful around the writer if he started snooping, as John suspected he would.

“Richard Castle this is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. John, this is Richard Castle,” she waved a hand between the two by way of introduction, smiling as the two males approached each other, shaking hands firmly.

“Hi, welcome to the party,” Richard greeted warmly, although Elizabeth could sense he was eyeing John up to see if he thought he might let on anymore than she had.

“Thank you Mr. Castle, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” John replied.

“Please, call me Richard, Mr. Castle makes me feel forty years older and not half as fun!” He grinned and made Elizabeth laugh lightly.

“John’s a big fan of yours,” she touched him on the arm and smiled at Castle. “His jaw almost hit the floor when he found out I knew you.”

“Some might say you know me better than most,” he replied with a sultry tone of voice and offered a cheeky wink in her direction and John saw her blush and look down as she smiled at the writer.

“Same old Richard I see,” Elizabeth teased him.

“Why change when life is so fun?” he joked to John.

“So what are you doing these days?”

“Oh, y’know…writing, running, shooting, getting blown up, that sort of…” His words trailed off as the ballroom doors opened behind Elizabeth and his eyes were captured by the most gorgeous sight of his life.

Elizabeth looked at Richard with amusement as the expression she had seen all too often from the man appeared on his face; he had spotted a woman who caught his fancy. However, a glance to her right found John sporting a similar expression in the same direction and she found herself disappointed that it wasn’t expressly for her as she had thought when he arrived that day. She turned around to find what they were looking at and found herself catching herself before she ogled the woman walking in to the room, bright light from the foyer behind her.

She was a tall, slim, brunette with long wavy hair which bounced lightly over her shoulders as she walked towards them. Her short royal blue dress flowed down her body to her mid-thigh and is held up on one shoulder by a sparkling strap. Her strappy, silver high-heeled shoes made her legs look all the longer and Elizabeth couldn’t help but think she was seeing a supremely confident woman who could possibly take John on and win.

“Castle, my face is up here,” the woman told him, sounding firm but amused. Elizabeth looked over at the writer to see his eyes were travelling the length of her legs. He mumbled some sort of affirmation and slowly dragged his eyes up to her face. Hearing John clear his throat over her other shoulder, she looked over to find him with his eyes firmly on the floor and rubbing a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture she had identified in their first week of the Atlantis mission. At John’s reaction to the newcomer, Elizabeth felt extremely uncomfortable. She’d found a thrill when John arrived this evening and she had left him speechless, but seeing a stranger render him in a similar condition hurt her feelings. She found herself doing something very unusual; smoothing down her dress, trying to regain some of her confidence with the simple gesture.

“Beckett…you…you look amazing!” Elizabeth smiled tightly as Castle stumbled over his words.

“Why thank you, Castle. He’s quite sweet when he’s tongue-tied, don’t you think?” the other woman asked Elizabeth with a grin.

“Now that’s not fair, you can’t just turn up looking like…” he gestured up and down at her. “…that and expect me not to notice!”

“I expect you not to drool though,” she looked at his face, laughing as he wiped his face to check. “Such an easy mark, Castle,” she accepted the glare he shot at her with a giggle as he stepped to the side.

“Well, now that she’s embarrassed me, allow me to introduce my partner, Detective Kate Beckett. Beckett, this is Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Colonel…” Castle trailed off, obviously forgetting John’s last name.

“Sheppard,” John reached his hand out and shook hers. “Colonel John Sheppard.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kate replied, reaching for Elizabeth’s hand to greet her. “Dr. Weir,” the two women smiled at each other courteously. “So how do you and Castle know each other?”

“We were at college together, many moons ago,” Elizabeth told her. “We dated for a while too.”

“Really…” Kate’s eyebrows reached her hairline as she turned to look at her partner.

“”Yes, well, as lovely as this is, why don’t we go get a drink,” Castle took Kate by the arms and started steering her away to the bar. “See you later Elizabeth!” The two disappeared into the crowd and left John and Elizabeth standing on the edge of the dance floor.

“Well, he’s an interesting character,” John quipped.

* * *

“Dr. Weir seems nice,” Kate teased as they leant up against the bar, side by side.

“She is,” Castle waved the bartender over to them. “Two martinis, dry and make mine dirty.”

“Dirty? Ohh…Castle, she must be nice. A dirty Martini? What happened between you two?”

“Nothing, why does anything have to have happened. She’s a friend, we used to go out, we don’t anymore, why the Spanish Inquisition?” The bartender placed the drinks in front of them and Castle downed his in one, ordering another drink straight afterwards. “What about you? No Josh?”

“Uh…no,” she took her drink in hand and mirrored him, downing her drink in one and ordering a replacement. “He had a seminar he had to speak at tonight.”

“Oh,” Castle looked sorry for asking the question, but decided that since fair was fair he’d try and change the subject. “So why didn’t you bring Ryan? Or Esposito?”

“What and pick a favourite? They’d be bickering from now until the end of time,” she joked.

“Ah true, you should never pick a favourite,” he laughed.

“Beckett!” Alexis’ voice cried from behind them. They both turned around and Kate was engulfed in a hug from the girl while Martha moved to kiss her son on the cheek.

“She looks ravishing, son,” Martha whispered next to his ear before they watched Kate and Alexis chatter away. “Going to do anything about it?” she teased, earning a glare from him.

He downed his second drink and ordered another. _This is going to be a long party._

* * *


	5. A, B, C...

* * *

Some time later, Elizabeth found herself talking with Senator Forrestor a long time acquaintance who she found out was now running for president. He had cornered her while she wasn’t looking and now she had to play the game and small talk with the man, easily dodging questions about her whereabouts for the past three years using the cover story they had all been given. Three years trying to establish diplomatic ties with North Korea, the only country someone as notable as Elizabeth could legitimately disappear to for three years. No contact with the North Korean government gave them the perfect alibi, with John of course as her personal guard.

John however, had lasted all of two minutes conversing with the weasel of a man before he had made a tactical retreat to the bar to get drinks for them both. She had felt his irritation growing with the man and figured him leaving was better than the alternative. John tried his best, but he wasn’t a politician. He struggled to hide his emotions and remain calm when it really counted, but she found his passion helped spur her on when she needed it.

So she listened to the Senator prattle on with his links to some medical company, his Presidential campaign plan and his hopes for the country’s future. Well, half listened if she were completely honest, her eyes kept being drawn over to the bar, seeing John talking to Richard, their gazes occasionally glancing over to her. She couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about.

* * *

John took a slow walk to the bar, trying to take up as much time as he possibly could before returning to listening to the irritating man Elizabeth had been caught up by. He felt bad for leaving her but he simply couldn’t take it anymore and excused himself before he either said something he regretted or hit him.

He sighed heavily as he leant against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. He ordered their drinks, telling him there was no rush, and looked back at Elizabeth with the Senator, catching her eyes briefly and rolling his eyes, making her stifle a laugh.

“So,” he heard Richard Castle start off awkwardly behind him. “What’s with you two?”

John turned to face him, feeling a little taken aback by the question, “I uh, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit,” Castle laughed, seeing John unable to make eye contact. “I see the way you two look at each other, I don’t think she even looked that happy when she was with me,” Castle offered him a wry smile then sipped his drink.

“There’s nothing going on,” John looked into the bottom of his beer to avoid Castle’s stare.

“Yet.”

“There’s nothing, ok? Never has, never will be,” John muttered in to his beer, taking a deep swallow of the liquid.

“But you want there to be, right?” Castle asked gently.

“Doesn’t matter, regulations don’t allow it and she doesn’t see me that way anyway,” John told him. Why was he telling all this to a man he had only met an hour or so before?

“Look, relationships are actually far simpler than how I write them,” Richard rounded the corned of the bar to stand next to John, both turning to lean with their backs against it, drinks in hand. “Ultimately it comes down to this question: do you want to be with her?” He saw John look at Elizabeth, knowing exactly what he was thinking and feeling. “Never mind, go and ask her to dance for crying out loud,” he turned back to the bar after spotting Beckett talking to a handsome man across the room.

“If it’s that easy why don’t you?” John asked, sipping at his beer.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rick took another swallow of his drink, keeping his eyes on the back wall of the bar.

“Oh come on now, you can’t lecture me on my life choices when you have pretty much the same one stood in front of you!” John told him. “Fair’s fair,” he grinned.

“Fine, if you must know she’s already got a boyfriend,” Rick turned to the other man and leant against the bar sideways, staring into his drink intently.

“Who isn’t here by the looks of it,” John pointed out.

Rick looked up at him, almost scowling at his logic. Deciding the other man was right, he set them both a challenge and raised his glass between them. “Ok, I’ll make you a deal, I’ll ask Beckett if you ask Elizabeth?”

John eyed him suspiciously, then raised his glass to clink with Rick’s, “Deal.” They both downed their drinks and stood up straight, adjusting their suits and looking at their respective women.

They stood there for nearly a minute before Castle asked, “Drink first?”

“Definitely!” John answered, both of them turning to the bar and ordering glasses of whiskey.

* * *

“Where have you been?” Elizabeth asked him as he approached. The Senator had just been escorted off by his publicist as John walked up to her with their drinks. “You left me alone with possibly the most self-obsessed man in the universe!”

“Sorry,” John laughed as she took the glass of wine he extended to her. “You seemed to be getting on so well!” That earned him that very special glare of _‘If you weren’t so charming I would send you to babysit on M7G 677 with Rodney on your next mission’._ “Besides, I got talking to Castle while I was at the bar.”

“I thought I saw you two at the bar,” she smiled. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” he took her glass from her hand and placed their drinks on the table just behind her. “In fact, he dared me to do something,”

“Uh oh,” she muttered. She knew what Castle’s dares used to entail, hopefully he had grown past eating weird substances and stealing the teacher’s favourite pen and holding it hostage.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. At least, I hope it isn’t,” he mumbled the last bit, doubt creeping in again on his new found Dutch courage. “Will you dance with me, Elizabeth?”

She was silent for a minute, taking in exactly what he had said. “Castle, _dared_ you to ask me to dance?” she repeated slowly.

“Yeah,” he replied with a worried little smile. He was having difficulty reading her expression at first, but then he saw the displeasure start to creep over her face. “Oh no! N-n-n-n-n-no! It’s not what it sounds like, let me explain!” he held his hands up as she crossed her arms and he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. “We were talking about you and he…well, he’s very observant, Elizabeth. What can I say? He knew about…stuff, y’know?” he told her awkwardly, gesturing between the two of them vaguely.

“So, what?”

“He’s got a similar problem with Beckett, so we were talking and decided to…” he sighed deeply, looking away from her face nervously, not wanting to see her reject him eye-to-eye. He started to back away from her, “Look, I’m sorry, I’ll just…go and…”

“Wait,” she reached out to touch his arm which stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t go, let’s…dance, and then we can talk, ok?”

They stared at each other for a minute, before John took a step towards her and held out his hand for her to take. She smiled tightly and placed her hand in his while she put her clutch bag down next to her drink. He led her out on to the dance floor quietly and stepped close to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her right hand in his left, holding it close to his heart as they started to sway gently together. They looked into each others eyes as they settled in to a rhythm. The hand on his shoulder moved to the back of his neck as they shifted closer, his hold around her waist tightening and she smiled at him to try and put him at ease. It worked; he returned her smile and let out a shaky breath, releasing the tension from his body.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” she asked him gently, fingers on the back of his neck idly playing with the hair they found there. A soothing distraction from her personal question her diplomatic mind informed her.

“I uh…I guess I wasn’t sure whether you would accept or not,” he told her uneasily. “We’ve never really talked about any of…this before. I thought it…” he shook his head, looking away, over her shoulder.

“Thought what, John?” she pressed, feeling his thumb brushing against her side unconsciously and finding the caress extremely distracting.

“I thought it was just me,” he told her, deciding to lay it all on the line for her. It didn’t look like they were going back to Atlantis anytime soon and ultimately that was really the only thing keeping them apart.

She sighed happily and lay her head on his shoulder, tucking herself into the hollow of his neck while they danced, “It’s not just you, John.”

His hold on her tightened again, releasing her hand and looping around her waist as he rested his cheek against her forehead. _Thank God,_ John thought as he closed his eyes and enjoyed being close to the woman he loved.

* * *


	6. Comings and Goings

* * *

After the second song had passed them by, Elizabeth shifted against him and looked up at him. She had wrapped her arms around his middle, one hand on his shoulder while the other held him tightly to herself. She looked up at him with a smile and ran her gaze over his face.

“Hey,” she murmured, eyes settling on his lips. “What do you say we get out of here?”

He gasped a little at her eagerness and the gentle squeeze she gave him. “Are you sure?” he settled serious eyes on her. He watched her lick her lips, then their eyes locked again and she nodded.

“Take me home, John,” she told him quietly with a small smile. He dropped his forehead to lean against hers and he could feel her warm breath ghosting on his lips, knew that if he just leant forward a few centimetres he would be kissing her. He felt his heart rate double at the mere thought of kissing her. She hummed happily, seemingly sensing his struggle. Then their eyes caught again and he found the strength to pull away slightly.

“I’ll go grab your shawl and get the car,” he told her, tension present in the tone of his voice. He squeezed her waist gently, giving her a cocky little smile before heading off across the dance floor. She found herself grinning happily, as she returned to pick up her purse.

“Elizabeth!”

She stopped, hand on her purse, _It couldn’t be…_ she thought. Upon turning around she saw her ex-lover Simon Wallace stood behind her, looking anxious about something. “Simon, good to see you again,” she smiled tightly as she replied with a customary greeting. “How have you…”

“I need to talk to you, Elizabeth,” he cut her off, speaking quickly and looking around furtively.

“Ok, so talk.” He stepped up closer to her.

“Not here, meet me at the house as soon as you can,” he instructed her in a low voice before rushing off towards the exit, knocking John’s shoulder as he passed by in a hurry. She had never seen him look so harried and scared; so unlike Simon’s normal disposition of calm and aloof.

“Hey, what was that about?” John asked as he stepped up to her holding out her wrap. She took it distractedly as she watched Simon retreat from the hall in a hurry. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” she murmured distractedly. “Actually, no, I’m not. I’m sorry John, but would you mind if I asked for a rain check?” She asked apologetically, seeing his face drop as she spoke.

“Uhh…sure,” he gave her a weak smile, his shoulders dropping as he looked down when their hands brushed when he handed her shawl over to her.

“I really am sorry John, but my friend needs me,” she explained, laying a hand on his forearm.

“Simon, right?” he huffed out, still avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah,” she confirmed sadly, feeling that this had broken something special that had been growing between them for the past few days. So she tried to rescue it. “Look, it shouldn’t take long. How about I sort this out then come pick me up in…” she lifted his right hand and pushed back the sleeve to look at his watch which made him smile. “An hour?” She looked up at him to find his lips very close to hers, his eyes intense as they flitted over her face. She bit her lip as she gazed up in to his eyes alluringly. “Ok?”

He hesitated, looking almost reluctant to let her get away with it, but as he looked into her eyes he gave her a smile, “Ok. One hour, then I’m coming to get you.”

She grinned up at him, mirroring his eyes as they flicked down to her lips. Deciding to give him something to hold on to she lifted her fingers to his jaw, trailing them gently down towards his lips. The hot breath on his lips distracted him completely and he felt the urge to whisk her off in his arms and never mind the consequences.

She stepped in close to him, cupping his jaw and his hands tightened on her waist anticipating her kiss. His eyes slipped closed, but widened in surprise as her lips landed on the very corner of his mouth. He groaned in frustration, holding her close as they swayed cheek to cheek. He chuckled as she smiled against his skin, giving him a final kiss before pulling away and walking swiftly across the room.

“Wait! How will I know…”

“I’ll text you when I’m in the taxi,” she called over her shoulder, flashing him a teasing smile. He watched her sway her hips more than usual and chuckled as she sauntered out of the room before making his way over to the bar.

* * *

“What are you doing back here?” Castle’s voice came from behind him as John finished his drink and ordered himself another coke from the barkeep. Castle sat on the stool next to him and ordered himself a scotch. “Seriously, it looked like it was going great, what happened?”

“It was going great, correction: it _is_ going great. I’m just…killing some time before I go meet her,” John sipped his coke with a happy smile.

“Oh…” Castle replied slowly. “So who was the guy she left with then?”

“A friend who needed her help, she’s sorting him out and then we’re meeting back at her place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, now will you please just drop it?” John hissed angrily.

“Sure, sure,” Castle held his hands up in defence before muttering in to his glass. “Never pegged Lizzie for such a player is all.” John huffed in annoyance and stood to leave before a laughing Castle put his hand on his arm and apologised, telling him to sit again. John checked his watch, and seeing there was still nearly half an hour left until he needed to leave to meet Elizabeth. He sat down warily, eyeing Castle suspiciously. They settled in silence, the awkwardness slowly dissipating until John spoke up.

“What happened with Beckett?” he saw Castle almost deflate out of the corner of his eye and realised he shouldn’t have asked. “Sorry,” he murmured, returning his eyes to his drink.

“No,” he sighed. “Fair’s fair I suppose,” he smiled tightly, fidgeting with his glass as he spoke. “Her boyfriend showed up,” John hissed in response, Castle nodding solemnly in agreement. “Perfect, sensitive, life-saving, cool Doctor motorcycle boy,” he grumbled in to his drink as he downed the strong liquid.

“Sorry, man,” John consoled him quietly.

“Not your fault, just something I have to get used to I suppose.”

“Dear God, you are a defeated man, aren’t you,” John laughed as he sipped his drink.

“Richard dear!” A woman called from across the crowd of people on the dance floor, waving madly in their direction. John saw Castle’s head drop and heard the accompanying groan.

“Kill me now…”

* * *


	7. Decisions

* * *

Elizabeth quickly exited the taxi and paid the fare, “Keep the change.” She started walking up to Simon’s front door, cursing as she stumbled when her heels sank in to the gravel of his driveway. She quickly made her way up the few steps to his front door and knocked.

The door creaked open with the force of her gentle knocking. She stepped back, thrown by the unusual event and saw that there was a large indentation on the edge of the door where the lock was. She pushed the door open a little more and peaked around the edge to see if she could catch a glimpse of anyone moving. She knew she should have stopped right there and called the police, but the urge to find Simon and check he was all right drove her onwards.

“Simon?” she called out as she entered the hallway. She looked around cautiously, listening intently to the noises around the house. She didn’t hear anyone moving around, only the washing machine in the back room. “Simon? Are you all right?” she asked the house.

She stepped carefully in to the front room, a large room with a bay window facing onto the driveway and Simon’s Audi. Two tall bookcases flanked his filled desk which was across the window, there was a light on in the room, but it seemed to have been knocked on the floor behind the couch, leaving the room in an eerie darkness. She heard a door creak in the house which made her heart leap in to her throat as she whipped round in reaction. Taking a deep breath, she let out a little chuckle to herself at her jumpiness. Turning back to the front room, she flicked the main light on to see better.

A man bent over someone one the floor looked around in shock. She screamed and backed out of the room as the man stood and rushed towards her. Arms wrapped around her from behind as she hit a wall of muscle, a hand coming up to cover her mouth so she couldn’t scream. Not that it would have helped she thought dimly to herself, since the nearest neighbours were just under half a mile away. As the man behind her tightened his grip, she could hear a familiar voice coming closer over her panicked breathing.

“Doctor Weir?” She tried to look around, over her captor’s shoulder but his fierce hold on her drastically reduced her ability to move, but she could have sworn it was Richard Woolsey who had called her name. “Elizabeth? What are you doing here?!” he asked, sounding shocked to see her as he moved to stand in front of her. “Damen, you can let her go. This is Doctor Weir, Dr. Wallace’s ex-fiancee,” he finished sadly. She felt her captor slowly releasing his hold, as if he didn’t completely trust that what he had been told was the truth. As soon as she felt his hold was loose enough, she pushed away fro him and turned to face them both, back against the wall as the struggled to catch her breath.

Spotting her purse on the floor where she must have dropped it, Elizabeth scooped it up and held it to her chest as she rested her head back against the wall. She rolled her head right and glared at Woolsey as he gave her the calm exterior covering up a whirlwind of emotions underneath. It was a look she knew well as a negotiator herself, but she hated getting it from anyone else.

“What the hell was that Richard?!” She swatted him with her purse in annoyance. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I am sorry, Dr. Weir,” he apologised, holding his hands up in defence, obviously not wanting another beating with her bag. “It was necessary. We have a bit of a…uh…situation here.”

“What kind of a situation?” she asked after taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. She looked at him in frustration as he stalled his response. “For God’s sake, Richard! You can’t get your security buff here to grab me, scare the crap out of me and then _not_ tell me what’s going on!”

“Ok, ok,” he allayed her concern, taking a deep breath himself before moving to stand in front of her and talk quietly as the goon walked off down the hallway and into the kitchen. “I think you should have a seat…”

“Just tell me, damnit!”

He eyed her carefully and stayed silent until she quirked an impatient eyebrow at him. “I’m afraid it’s my sad duty to inform you that Doctor Simon Wallace was killed this evening,” he told her quietly.

“What? No, he was just at the party,” she told him with a smile.

“I really am sorry, Elizabeth.” Richard put a hand on her arm, but she shrugged him off and backed towards the front room again. As her back hit the door frame, she looked into the room and saw the body the man had been leant over earlier.

It was Simon. Eyes open, staring blankly at the wall and as pale as the full moon shining outside.

“Oh my God! Simon!” She looked at the man still studying the room then back at Woolsey. “What the hell did you do to him?!”

“The IOA had nothing to do with this, Elizabeth,” he tried to re-assure her. “I need you to trust me. We did not have anything to do with this, but we need to find out who did,” he guided her back in to the hallway and away from Simon’s body as the tears started to roll down her cheeks. “And I need your help to do that, if you are willing.”

“What? What are you talking about?” she asked as she wiped her face and tried to stifle her tears.

“Dr. Wallace was on the trail of something important. Our assets told us that after trying to contact you unsuccessfully for several hours, he eventually contacted an old college friend about a project he was working on, that he thought his father was having him followed and monitoring his computers at work and at home,” Woolsey explained.

“Why does the IOA care about any of that?”

“He used a code word used within the SGC regarding a project his company were working on,” she waited for him to continue, glaring at him when he didn’t.

“Richard, you tell me everything or I walk out of the door right now!” She pointed at the front door, in no mood to mess around with carefully chosen words. The balding man heaved a great sigh and reluctantly continued.

“Dr. Wallace’s company was working on a cure for Alzheimer’s. They had told us that they were on the verge of a break through.”

“What kind of break through? And why would they tell you?” she asked.

“They have the formula for a serum which can almost completely reverse the affects of Alzheimer’s in even the most advanced cases. In some cases it has even proven to improve cognitive ability,” he watched her face warily as she assimilated the information. “Technically the US government owns all the patents to this new therapy and the IOA have been placed in a position to ensure these patents are safeguarded.” He had to admit that the possibility was exciting, he just had to figure out why Dr. Wallace was trying to get their attention about it. He watched Elizabeth’s face change as she realised that none of this would have happened if it were that simple.

“What’s the catch?”

“We don’t know, we figure that is what Dr. Wallace was trying to tell us,” he explained as she moved back to look at Simon. He moved with her as he continued to speak, “That’s what we were hoping to find out by coming here this evening, but…as you can see…that didn’t go as planned.”

“So…where do I figure in all of this?” she asked quietly as the man in the front room glanced at his phone when it beeped insistently. He stood quickly and made his way over to them, his deep voice rumbling that they had to leave quickly. “What’s happening?” she asked as the man moved past them and in to the kitchen.

“We have to leave now, there’s someone coming,” he told her.

Elizabeth quickly looked at her watch. _John,_ she thought in relief. She could confide in him and they could figure out what they had to do. “It’s all right, it’s Colonel Sheppard. I asked him to pick me up,” she told him calmly.

“He can’t know,” he told her firmly.

“Then no deal. Whatever it is you want me to do, I won’t do it,” she replied just as firmly, walking in to the room to look down on Simon better.

“Then we will put you in to protective custody away from your life for the foreseeable future until we can establish what is happening in that company.”

“What? So either I help you or you lock me up?!” She felt tears spring back in to her eyes at the thought of either leaving John with no explanation and doing nothing or leaving him with no explanation and doing _something._ This evening had started out so promising and had slowly gone down hill.

“I’m afraid so, Doctor Weir,” he glanced at the front window as two headlights appeared in the distance, at the end of a very long driveway. “We need someone to go undercover inside the company and get us the information Doctor Wallace wanted us to have.”

Standing over Simon’s body with tears streaming down her cheeks, Elizabeth weighed her options. She found her mind wandering back to the time her father had taken them to live in England as a child. She saw in her mind’s eye children putting their toes into a circle and eliminating one after the other with the rhyme _‘Ip dip, dog do, who’s it, not you!’_ Except Elizabeth found herself with only two options.

She could go into hiding and do nothing until the IOA did something about all of this, which with their track record could mean months in limbo.

Or she could find out who killed Simon and find justice for his murder and get back to John and her life as quickly as possible.

She glanced down at Simon’s still face again and pulled herself together. She knew what she had to do. She wiped her face and turned back to Mr. Woolsey.

“I’ll do it, just let me tell John…”

“No, no-one can know where you are or what you’re doing. No questions asked,” he replied, still looking stern faced.

“You don’t know John,” she smiled bitterly. “If he doesn’t know where I am he won’t stop until he finds me.”

“Oh I know how persistent Colonel Sheppard can be, but it is something we’ll have to deal with later,” he stepped closer to her. “We have to move now. You need to be ready to infiltrate the company by tomorrow morning which means you’ve got to be prepped.”

“And just how am I going to do that?”

“When I first saw Dr. Wallace had been murdered I called the IOA and they began rushing the finalising of the programming of a mimic device with the image of one of the lead scientists on Dr. Wallace’s team. A team will be taking her in to custody this evening,” he finished.

“A mimic device?” Elizabeth sniffed as she tried to follow Woolsey’s explanation. “You don’t mean those things SG-1 found during the Foothold incident, surely? I was told those were years off any long term practical application.”

“Officially there are,” Richard had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Unofficially we have been running long term testing on them with positive results.”

“Even classified material has classified material?” she mused. “But you said they were rushing the finalising, which means you’ve been planning this for some time.”

“We have been,” Richard told her as he started guiding her out of the room and away from Simon’s body. “Not for this specifically, but the events of tonight have…expedited our schedule. Come this way Dr. Weir.”

“Wait, just give me a second with Simon, ok?” she asked. She hoped he couldn’t see her plan in her eyes, she had to get a message to John somehow. She felt relief fill her as he nodded solemnly and turned away slightly to give her some privacy. She hurried back to Simon’s body and knelt down as gracefully as she could in the evening gown and heels. She looked around Simon’s study for any way she could subtly leave a message for John about what was going on. She cast her eyes over his desk but saw nothing she could use. Her message had to be short and to point, but she couldn’t exactly write a note, Woolsey would be sure to see that. She looked over Simon’s bookshelf and her eyes caught on a book entitled _‘Wittgenstein and the Moral Life: Essays In Honour of Cora Diamond’._ She remembered it being a favourite of Simon’s and it was in the section he had for textbooks for Alzheimer’s. She looked down at the ring she was wearing on her right hand, her mother’s gift to her when she had received her first position with the UN. She quickly took the ring off and tucked it in to Simon’s hand under the guise of picking his hand up to hold as she said goodbye. She leant down and kissed his cold cheek, putting his arm down, but pointing it to the book shelf with the book in question on it. Satisfied that she had left as good a message as she could, she said farewell to Simon and joined Woolsey at the door to the hallway. As she was guided into a black car with tinted windows, she could only hope that John would understand her message.

* * *


	8. Motion

* * *

John obeyed his phone’s sat nav when it told him to turn left in that annoying voice. Looking down the dark road, however, John felt dubious about what the computer had ordered him to do. He grumbled in frustration at the stupid device and started looking for a place to turn round, a task made all the more difficult by the trees on either side of the single track road and the dark. As he looked down the long straight road, he could see some lights in the distance, and after giving his phone one last glare – this time for being right- he continued down the road. After a couple of minutes of the lights getting closer and brighter, he grudgingly accepted that his phone had been right all along.

The road opened up in to a large circular parking area, so John looped around and parked next to the steps leading up to the house. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree and John briefly wondered how one man could have so many lights on in a house. Looking at his watch, he resisted the impulse to honk his horn and hurry her. He didn’t want to seem desperate after all, despite the fact that he’d been thinking about Elizabeth ever since she had left him earlier. Castle had ribbed him for the silly grin that kept crossing his face, but at least it had stopped the writer from brooding too much.

He took his phone out of the cradle on the dashboard and brought up the picture he had taken with her this evening. She was gorgeous. Possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He chuckled at his own mushiness, wondering when he had been so transformed when it came to women. It seemed that the days of the womanising flirt were gone. John Sheppard had grown up. Not that much however; he was currently repressing the urge to simply walk in there, throw her over his shoulder and take her home to make love to her.

Sighing, he looked up at the door to see if there was any movement. But something else caught his eye. He couldn’t be sure if it were a shadow or not, but the door looked open and John could feel his instincts kick in that something was very wrong with this situation.

Jumping out of his car, he tucked his phone in to his jacket pocket and jogged up the front steps, stopping at the door to listen inside. He couldn’t hear any movement, so carefully pushed the door open enough to peek around it. On seeing nothing, he moved into the hallway, fiercely missing the weight of his faithful gun in his hands, but carrying on regardless. He needed to know Elizabeth was alright.

He moved in to the first room on the right, a study by the looks of it, and instantly recognised the disarray of the room for what it was. Two steps further in to the room only confirmed it. A murder.

But where was Elizabeth? He turned and called out for her, but only heard the dishwasher in the kitchen return his call. He raced around the other rooms, checking for her before coming back to the front room. With his head in his hand, he pulled out his phone and tried to push down the rising panic in his throat as he dialled 911.

He was giving the dispatcher the address when he heard a car engine rev up close to the house and he ran to the front door to see a black Ford speeding off down the driveway, gravel crunching under its tyres. He made out the first three numbers of the license plate, which he relayed to the dispatcher, but the car vanished in to the darkness before he could give her anything else of value. “Shit! I think they have Elizabeth!”

“Sorry, sir, who has who?”

“Whoever killed Simon. I think they have my friend too,” he ran his hand through his hair. “Screw this, I’m going after them.”

“Sir, please do not follow the vehicle, I’ve already dispatched a car to your location,” she told him. “I need you to remain at the house, the detectives will be with you shortly.” Her instructions stopped him at the car door, caught between doing what was right and doing what he wanted. He turned and watched the brake lights disappearing in to the distance and heard the sirens wailing not too far away.

“Fuck!” He shouted, hanging up on the dispatcher and kicked the wheel of the car. He couldn’t help feeling that he had just lost Elizabeth.

* * *

Richard sat chatting to a pretty blonde woman at the bar, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over to Kate dancing with Dr. Motorcycle Boy. The blonde was pretty enough, young and chatty and when she looked away he would share looks with his daughter as she rolled her eyes at his scandalous behaviour.

“So, is it, like, true that you and Nicky Heat are, y’know, doing it? ‘Coz I hear that you writers get all your ideas from real life,” she smiled charmingly, holding her arms close to her sides and producing a very pleasing amount of cleavage which Castle simply could not resist gaping at. He heard Alexis scoff at him before closing her books and leaving the bar with Ashley, headed for the dance floor.

Richard couldn’t seem to find the words to answer the woman when confronted with her bosom, seemingly only able to open and close his mouth like a fish in response.

A hard pat on his back broke him out of his stupour. “Come on bro! Got a case!”

“Oh, right, umm…” he fumbled over a good bye to the blonde, whose name he couldn’t even remember. “Sorry, y’know, gotta run. Nice meeting you though,” he smiled as he fumbled over getting off his barstool and putting his jacket on from the back of it.

“She was hot, dude!” Ryan pointed out as Castle caught up with them at the door.

“Who was she?”

“No idea,” Castle replied. “Nice pair of…”

“What, Castle?” Beckett’s stern yet teasing voice came from behind him as she came around to get in the front passenger seat of the squad car and dared him to finish his sentence with a look.

“Shoes! I was gunna say shoes!” He defended, getting in the back with Esposito, leaving Ryan to drive. “You’re not driving?”

“Are you kidding? In these heels?”

* * *


	9. Questions, questions...

* * *

John stood in the doorway, biting his nails and watching as the medical examiner performed her initial investigation on Simon’s body. He was still kicking himself about not going after the car. A familiar voice behind him made him turn and he saw Castle bickering with Beckett over something as they walked in the front door.

“Wow, this is a nice place,” Beckett observed as she turned away from her argument with Castle and pulled on some gloves, leaving Castle visibly frustrated behind her. “Colonel Sheppard?” she asked as her eyes landed on him. “What are you doing here?”

“I called it in,” he told her, his throat felt tight with anxiety and his mouth felt dry. “Elizabeth was here, have you heard anything about the car?”

“Uniforms have tracked it to warehouse in the city,” she told him, moving past him and in to the front room. “No sign of the occupants. Hi Lanie.”

“Hey sweetie,” she glanced up and did a double take when she saw the dress and heels her friend was dressed in. “Oh my, lookin’ good sweetie!” Kate blushed and smiled as she moved over to the desk.

“Thanks, babe,” Esposito piped up with a grin. The withering look both Beckett and Lanie gave him were supported by the slap to the back of the head Kevin gave him.

“Anyway,” Kate carried on with a slight chuckle. “What can you tell me?”

“Forced entry with signs of a struggle. Time of death was probably only two hours ago or so. He has two gunshot wounds to the chest, not a quick death I’m afraid,” she informed them calmly and wrote on her clipboard.

“He must have put up a fight,” Esposito told them as he brushed his finger over a bullet hole in the door frame. “Got a bullet over here,” he announced before moving to have a look around the rest of the house.

“Colonel Sheppard, when did you arrive at the house?” Kate asked, still looking around the room for clues.

“About eleven? Why?”

“And why were you at the residence?”

“I was here to pick Elizabeth up,” he glanced over at Castle who was watching the interchange carefully. “After he approached her at the party she’d come over to talk to him; he’d asked for her help.”

“What kind of help?”

“I don’t know,” John replied. “He was agitated. She was a little distracted after he left, so she came over to try and help him out.”

“And you don’t know where she is now?” Esposito piped up from beside Ryan who was hurriedly scribbling down all the information.

“No!” John snapped at him. “Look, I came to pick her up, now she’s gone and the man she came to help is dead. Are you going to help me find her or what?”

“We’re just trying to establish a timeline,” Castle tried to reassure him.

“Like hell you are! You’re trying to establish me as a suspect!”

“And with a temper like that, can you blame us?” Lanie muttered a little too loudly, making everyone turn and look at her in silence.

“Ma’am?” A uniformed officer poked her head around the door frame. “We’ve found what looks like a high end security system in the basement. Cameras, alarms, the works.”

“Ok, you two go check it out,” Kate directed Ryan and Esposito who immediately left the room with the officer as she began to shift through some paper work scattered on the desk. “Looks like company invoices, shipping manifestoes,” she said, mostly to herself. “We’ll take them back to the precinct and see if there’s anything of any use.” She moved further around the room, picking up a photo from on top of the fireplace and smiling at the sight of a happy couple on a beach with their arms wrapped around each other and the sun setting behind them. “We need to find his wife too. Colonel Sheppard, would you mind coming down to the station with us?”

* * *


	10. Primo suspicatur

* * *

Castle strutted in to the police station and into the elevator that would take him to the floor the homicide department was on. He had been home to change and see Alexis off to school and on his way back in he had picked up some coffee for Beckett and himself, since he knew she wouldn’t have stopped to do it herself yet.

Leaving the elevator, he saw Ryan and Esposito arguing over a doughnut at their desk and Kate sat at her desk holding her head in her hands over some papers. “Morning!” he greeted her cheerily as he handed over the coffee he made a tradition of providing every morning.

“Thanks,” she smiled, bringing it to her lips and taking a deep inhale of the beverage. “Ooo, cinnamon?”

“Figured you could do with a little something special,” he told her as he sat in his usual seat next to her desk. “Can’t have you falling asleep now, can we Miss Party Girl?” he teased as he sipped his own drink. “Oh, and breakfast!” he produced a wrapped croissant from his coat pocket for her. She smiled softly at him and muttered her thanks quietly, placing the offered food next to her computer and went back to looking over the little information she had found on their new acquaintance Lt Col. John Sheppard.

“What you looking at?” She chuckled at his question and turned the computer monitor so he could see it.

The screen showed John’s picture, his name and date and place of birth. Beneath all that was large, bold, red lettered word: Classified. He looked at her curiously, waiting for her to scroll the page down or something. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” she confirmed, her brow furrowing in frustration. “Well, that and the phone call I received less than a minute after entering his name on the system telling me to cease and desist my line of enquiry.”

“Seriously? But he’s a suspect,” Castle still looked amazed at what he had seen.

“General O’Neill of Homeworld Security seems to think otherwise,” she sighed, annoyed at being blocked with no explanation.

“Homeworld? You mean Home _land_ right?” He asked.

“Nope, Home _world_. I asked the very same thing. Apparently it is a new classified department of the government.”

“Classified?” His eye shot to hers, lighting up at the idea. “Should you even be telling me this?” he whispered.

“Don’t worry, Castle. No-one’s going to arrest you for knowing,” she let out a little laugh. “Although they might arrest you for telling,” she looked at him pointedly to which he held up his hands in defence. “General O’Neill said it was on a need to know basis, and in my opinion, being heavily involved in this case, you need to know,” she told him, making Castle feel very privileged that she trusted him that much. A shout from across the room broke the moment that drew their attention to their fellow detectives who were rough housing like idiots, drawing a small crowd of spectators. “They, however, do _not_ need to know,” she told him with a wry grin. Seeing he was about to burst out laughing at the pair she gave him the sternest look she could muster, making him shut his mouth with a click. “You know this means you can’t tell anyone else, right?”

“I know, I know,” he sank back into his seat, disappointed. “Kinda takes the fun out of it though,” he grumbled in to his coffee.

“Fun? Castle, this is a matter of National Security. If you tell _anyone_ they will arrest you and throw you in a cell for the rest of your days, do you understand?” she told him seriously, waving a pen at him to emphasise her point, to which he had the decency to look at least a little sheepish.

“So, uh, what happens now?” he asked awkwardly.

“Well, the Captain’s talking to General O’Neill right now,” she told him, nodding toward Captain Montgomery’s office, where he was on the phone with John stood looking worried and anxious next to his desk. “And those two,” she pointed at Ryan and Esposito whose rough housing was drawing to a close by the looks of it. “Are _supposed_ to be bringing in Mrs Wallace for questioning,” she raised her voice so they could hear her across the room and game them a pointed look.

“Hey! We found her!” Ryan defended as he pushed Esposito’s face away and finally stole the last doughnut.

“Yeah! Uniforms are picking her up now,” Esposito chipped in, then smacked Ryan around the back of the head.

Kate rolled her eyes and pushed away from the desk to stand in front of the murder board with her coffee. Castle stood next to her as they leant back against her desk in tandem, eyeing the board carefully.

The deceased’s picture was stuck in the middle, his name and profession written underneath. On the left, under the headline of suspects, there was John’s picture and name and Simon’s wife’s. On the right were the unexplained aspects of the case, including the gun found at the scene and the ring found in Doctor Wallace’s hand. The centre of the board had the timeline drawn along it with the known movements of their victim and currently the only suspects they had spoken to; John Sheppard. Beneath that there were the crime scene photographs, both overviews and detailed shots.

“Do you think he did it?” Castle asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I think it’s pretty convenient that he just happened to be at the murder of his current girlfriend’s ex. I’ve had suspects remain at the scene before to try and throw off the cops,” she explained.

“Best place to hide is in plain sight, huh?”

“Right, but now the government’s calling to protect their man and I can’t find any information about where he’s even been for the last three years! Not an address, a posting, even a credit rating! It just reeks of government cover-up!” She pushed away from the desk, clenching her hands in frustration.

“Wow! That is so cool!” Castle said reverently as he gazed at the board.

“No, Castle, it’s not cool!” she turned to him and berated him slowly. “There’s a man in there who could be getting away with murder and the government are covering for him! No one should be above the law!”

“You’re sounding like you’ve already found him guilty.” Castle pointed out carefully, watching her face change from frustration to resignation. “Look, I know we don’t have all the facts and that jealousy right now seems like a great motive, but I gotta tell you,” he paused to look at the man he had met less than twenty four hours ago, whose primary focus since they’d met at the crime scene had been finding Elizabeth. “I really don’t think he did it,” he told her gently and watched her lean back against the desk, rubbing her hands over her face.

“You’re right, Castle,” she looked back up at the board. “We have other suspects. I just…” she stopped and gritted her teeth. “I hate the old boy’s club, y’know?” Their eyes locked in a moment of understanding, which started to morph in to something that felt a little awkward.

“Beckett? Castle? I need a word,” Captain Montgomery leaned out of his office and waved them in. Kate seemingly couldn’t get away from their moment, which left Castle clearing his throat and feeling a little at sea. He followed Beckett into the office and smiled at John who was still on the phone. He didn’t return the smile, listening intently to the voice on the other end.

“What’s happening, sir?” Beckett asked as they stood in front of the Captain’s desk.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” John hung up the phone and rubbed his face with his hands.

“You are to liaise with Colonel Sheppard and combine resources in order to solve Doctor Wallace’s murder and Doctor Weir’s disappearance,” Montgomery told them.

“What about Colonel Sheppard’s status with the case, sir?” Beckett asked, feeling the old boy’s club coalescing around her.

“I have been assured that there is proof to corroborate his whereabouts during the timeframe we are considering. I need you to focus on any other leads, ok? I don’t need to remind you that the first forty-eight hours in a kidnapping are critical. Work together,” he told them emphatically, indicating both Beckett and Sheppard. “And find these people.” Kate cast John an annoyed look, before nodding reluctantly to the Captain. “Right, get to it people!”

John followed Beckett and Castle out of the office and back to her desk after shaking the Captain’s hand. “Castle, you wanna show Col. Sheppard the murder board?” She asked as she sat down.

“Hey, look,” John stopped him before he could and spoke to them both. “I know we only met yesterday, but I need to just say…thanks, for trusting me.” They all shared a restrained smile and after an awkward moment, Castle led him through the murder board, quickly removing his picture and name from the suspects list. John carefully scanned the board, looking closely at the pictures at the bottom while Castle explained the papers they had also recovered from the house.

“Beckett!” Esposito called from across the office. “Mrs Wallace is here.”

“Right,” Beckett stood and picked up a folder and pen as she made her way over to the boys. “Find out if the victim had any disagreements at work or with his neighbours.”

“What neighbours I say, did you see another house from his?” Ryan joked as he and his partner grabbed their coats and left by the elevator.

“Colonel Sheppard, why don’t you stay behind the glass for this one?” He started to protest but she cut him off. “Let us do our job and we’ll get you answers, all right?”

They split up and Kate and Beckett shortly found themselves sat across the table from Simon’s wife, Lisa. She was still young, maybe late twenties or early thirties. Her blonde hair was long and silky, her nails perfectly manicured and her make-up was so perfect that Castle wondered whether she had a make-up artist working for her. Her low cut top quickly dragged his eyes downwards and threw him a little off kilter as her ample bosom heaved in front of them. She had a Louis Vuitton handbag on her lap and her hand was in the bag while she was making mushy coo-ing sounds.

“Mrs Wallace,” Kate greeted. “My name is Detective Beckett and this is Richard Castle. We’d like to talk to you about your husband.”

“No way! _The_ Richard Castle?! I can’t believe it! Simon had tickets to go to your party last night. I so wanted to go, but he said that he didn’t want to be there long and that if I went we’d be there for hours. Yeah, like _that’s_ true!” the dolled up woman rambled.

“Mrs Wallace,” Kate interrupted.

“Please, call me Lisa,” she told them. “Oh and I don’t go by Wallace anymore, I’m using my maiden name now; Forrester.”

“Why is that…Lisa?” Beckett hesitated over what to call their suspect, figuring that calling her by her first name might engender some kind of trust and comfort, making her more likely to give them useful information.

“Well, because Simon and I aren’t together anymore. I mean, we’re living together, but we’re seeing other people,” she reassured them, eyes flitting over Castle teasingly.

“You mean you were, don’t you?” Castle corrected.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with Dr. Wallace dead you’re free to see other people aren’t you?” The stunned looked on her face quickly told him that she had not been told of her husband’s recent demise. “I’m sorry…”

“Simon’s dead?” her voice held a sob in it, hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock. “Wait, is that why I’m here?”

“Where were you last night between the hours of ten thirty and twelve?” Beckett asked in a very matter of fact way.

“Hang on a minute! You think _I_ did it?” she exclaimed. “You think I killed Simon?”

A yap suddenly erupted from her bag and the small head of a smooth coat Chihuahua popped out of the top making both Castle and Beckett jump back from the desk. It growled at them but made no move to leave the bag and Lisa immediately started stroking and talking to it to calm it down.

“We need to pursue all possible avenues of our investigation, which also means we have to exclude people,” Kate reassured her. It seemed to work, as the panic slowly slipped from her face and she sat back in her chair.

“Ok,” she said timidly. “So, last night? Last night I was with Boris. He was so lovely, bless him. I cried for more than an hour that I couldn’t go to your party, Mr. Castle. I’m a big fan, ever since _Gathering Storm._ ”

“Oh, well, thank you Lisa…” he began to accept her praise but caught the glare from Beckett out of the corner of his eye and quickly remembered to stay on point. “Right,” he cleared his throat. “So, uh, I assume Boris can confirm where you were last night?”

“Oh yes,” she confirmed. “I was there all night,” she took great relish in telling them that, directing her flirtatious gaze at Castle again.

“Your nails are beautiful, Miss Forrester,” Beckett complimented. “But you don’t strike me as a woman who walks around with a broken nail, not even for a day. So how did that come about?”

Lisa looked down at the hand she had left on top of her bag, showing the broken nail on her left hand. She slowly brought it down to her lap to hide it, looking a little embarrassed that someone had seen it. “I broke it last night. Stubbed my finger on a door.”

“What door?”

“I don’t know, my car? Why? What does it matter?”

“It matters now because you just lied to me, didn’t you,” Kate challenged her, looking her directly in the eyes as Lisa’s darted between the two of them. “We found your nail when we searched the house.”

A look of horror came over the woman’s face at the thought and she leant forward, making her bag growl before she put the bag on the floor. “Ok, this is what happened. I went over there to talk to Simon, try one last time to get those tickets. He said he would let me have them last week, then yesterday morning he text me and said I couldn’t! So I went over there yesterday afternoon to see what was going on and he was acting all weird again, more than usual; rushing around, talking to himself. I could barely get a conversation out of him, but he said he needed them for something important. And yeah, that made me angry. I yelled at him, called him a jerk and slapped him. That’s when I lost the nail; I remember because I thought to myself: ‘Damn I need to make an appointment for tomorrow.’ Anyway, I yelled at him a bit more, he kept being crazy and I left. Went straight to Boris’.” She sat back after finishing her story. “Oh God, that’s the last time I’m ever going to see him isn’t it.”

There was a brief silence as they allowed her to assimilate that fact, before Kate spoke again. “Were you and Dr. Wallace getting divorced, Lisa?”

“No, like I said, we were living separate lives,” she sniffed, fishing a tissue out of her hand bag and dabbing underneath her eyes.

“So why not get divorced? What’s the point?” Castle asked.

“My dad’s a senator, he’s thinking of running for president and his advisors told us that a divorce might be considered damaging to his reputation,” she explained, sniffing as she spoke.

“And having an affair wouldn’t?” Beckett asked, perplexed.

Lisa shrugged and looked coy, “I was always careful not to be seen. So, uh…can I go?”

“One last thing,” Castle stopped Beckett from finishing the interview. “You said he acting more weird than usual. What did you mean by that?”

“The last few weeks he’s been more and more antsy,” she said with another shrug.

“Antsy?” Kate chipped in, trying to encourage her to reveal more information.

“Yeah. First he started making weird journeys to and from work. Then he went through a stage where he didn’t want to go out, not even to work. Now _that_ was weird, I mean Simon always loved his work, he was really dedicated, y’know? Anyway, his dad came over probably two weeks ago and they had a talk and Simon went back to work. So I thought it was some sort of personal thing that had been bothering him. Except then he had this really expensive security system installed, tracking devices in his cars, laptop and cell phone. Then one day when I went out, I noticed this black car parked at the end of our driveway which I thought was odd, because, y’know, there’s hardly anything nearby. So, anyway, when I got back it was in our driveway and two guys in suits were leaving the house. When I got in, Simon was a wreck, like he was in shock or something and after that…” she threw her hands up in the air. “I have no idea. He just went more and more off the rails; wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat. Just worked and talked to himself. Now, I swear, that’s all I know, can I please go? My appointment’s at half nine,” she held up her hand with the broken nail.

“That’s all for now, but we’ll need to take some details from you, so just sit tight for now,” Beckett told her as she and Castle rose to leave the room.

They met with John behind the glass and looked in on Lisa. “What do you think?” she asked the Colonel.

“I think she’s prissy, but I don’t think she did it,” John sighed, disappointed to have met a dead end.

“I don’t remember finding a nail at the house…” Castle observed.

“We didn’t, but she didn’t know that,” Kate smiled proudly.

“Then how did…”

“I saw her hand on her bag, and knowing the type of woman she is, she wouldn’t go any length of time without having it fixed,” she shrugged. “I knew she was hiding something so I took a gamble and hoped that two and two made four, not five.” John chuffed a laugh as she explained.

“Right,” John started, rubbing his face with his hand and sounding tired. “What did we learn from that tête a tête?”

“We learnt that over the last few weeks Dr. Wallace had been behaving more and more erratically. He received a visit from some men which sent his behaviour spiralling even more,” Beckett summarised as they all walked back to her desk. “We also learnt that he needed that ticket to the party last night, so why did he need to be there so desperately?” They came to stand in front of the board, casting their gazes over it.

“Well, when I saw him leaving Elizabeth he seemed to be in a helluva rush,” John told them.

“Do you know what he talked to her about?”

“No, she didn’t say, but it seemed to shake her up too,” John told her. “I’d just gone to get our things to leave and when I came back he was rushing out of the door and she said she wanted to go after him. I offered to drive her and wait, but she insisted on getting a taxi,” John looked away, looking embarrassed and frustrated at the same time. “I should have gone with her, damnit!”

“Hey, look,” Castle interjected, trying to calm the other man. “You couldn’t have expected this to happen.”

John sighed out his frustration, but kept his eyes downcast, which Beckett took as a hint to move the subject on. “Right, so obviously he was trying to tell Dr. Weir something important, but what?”

After a slight pause, Castle spoke up, “Lisa said he was dedicated to his work. Maybe there was something happening in the company. Do we know what he was working on?”

Beckett looked in the case file and flicked through the leaves of paper, “Says here it’s classified.” She looked up at John, to try and make a point, while Castle returned to looking intently at the board.

“Hey! Why would I automatically know what everything ‘classified’ means?” John defended, making her feel a little foolish, as he went back to looking at the board.

“Say, uh, do you have a picture of Dr. Weir?” she asked quietly. “For the board, I mean.”

“Yeah,” John replied quietly as he took his phone out of his pocket. He brought up the picture he’d taken last night of Elizabeth and himself, smiling sadly as he thought about the fun they’d had before all this happened.

“You wanna Bluetooth it to me?” Beckett asked, taking out her own phone. “Just put zero in for the pairing.”

“Thanks,” John replied with a small smile and sent the picture over.

“Hey, guys?” Castle asked, looking intently at one of the crime scene photos. “What was the ring we found in his hand?”

“You found a ring?” John asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yeah, it was a three stone diamond and emerald ring set in white gold,” Kate read from the folder. “We found it in his right hand. Why?”

Castle turned the picture sideways, eyes following Simon’s arm as it lay towards the bookcase and reached for the magnifying loop that lay on Beckett’s desk as she moved to stand beside him. John moved to take the picture of the ring off the murder board. Castle levelled the loop over the part of the picture he needed, a bookshelf from the far right of the room and she got close enough to see it too.

“This is Elizabeth’s,” John told them quietly. “She was wearing it last night.”

“Are you sure?” Beckett questioned, trying not to deafen Castle since she was so close to him.

“Yeah, it was her mothers,” he walked over to them. “She loved it, hadn’t taken it off since we got back home.”

“Look at that, there’s a book here written by Cora Diamond,” Castle announced, suddenly realising how close Beckett was really standing to him. They were practically cheek to cheek, her hand on his shoulder for balance and he could feel the warmth of her breath as she breathed.

“She left me a message,” John sounded far away as he realised what it meant. She knew he would find it and she was relying on him to find her.

“Right, Castle,” she pushed away from him and moved to the murder board. “I need you to read through that book and see if there’s anything that we can use. John,” she took the photo of the gun off the board and handed it to him. “Have you seen this gun before? Can you tell me anything about it?”

“You want me to read through this book?!” Castle cried out. “Do you realise what you’re asking? This isn’t exactly light reading, in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever read through anything like this before! I have no idea how long that will take!”

“Oh shut up, Castle,” she told him mildly with an amused look. “I’ve seen you skim read longer books in a few hours before, you’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“There’s a reason she left us the ring and it’s in that book. Get on with it,” she told him categorically. He looked flustered, like he was about to reply, but thought better about it when he saw the dangerous look on her face. He huffed and pointed his finger at her, looking like he couldn’t find the words before making a swift exit. She laughed before she turned back to Sheppard who had been watching their interchange with amusement. “Sorry about that,” she walked behind her desk and sat down with a small smile. “He can be a little bit of a child sometimes.”

“Hey don’t worry about it!” he grinned. “I’ve got one of my own,” he joked about Rodney, making her laugh and easing the tension that had been building between the two of them since they had met at the crime scene. “Umm…there’s a symbol on the butt of the gun that looks familiar, but I can’t be sure. I need to send this to Rodney, see if he can recognise it, that ok?”

“Is he in on this government cover-up too?” she asked, probing for a little bit more information. Not even what he told her verbally, she was watching him as she said it and as he replied to try and get a gauge on him. He smiled at her enigmatically before taking the picture of the gun and walking away.

* * *


	11. Running The Gauntlet

* * *

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as she looked up at the intimidating skyscraper in front of her. People moved around her, heels clicking, chatting and laughing. Some heading in to the building ahead of her and she struggled to remember the faces and names from the files she had been briefed on last night. She had been in desperate situations before, and to be fair there were currently no weapons pointed at her (she hope), but she couldn’t help but feel the trepidation fill her stomach with butterflies at what she was about to do. She opened her handbag to look for the keycard to enter the building, but doing so just reminded her that she was not currently herself.

Her hands looked utterly foreign to her, wrinkled and old. One thing Richard hadn’t told her before she had accepted was that the woman she was impersonating was, in fact, as old as her mother. She had to remember not to freak out next time she looked in the mirror. It made sense to be honest; this woman, Pam Alders, was a senior personal assistant to the company CEO who just happened to be Simon’s father, George. Would he recognise her? See through the layer of disguise the device provided her?

Marshalling her determination, she started towards the building as her fingers curled around the key card. A man’s voice calling her name from behind her stopped her in her tracks and she swallowed heavily before turning to greet him. “Hey Pam! Have a good weekend?”

She smiled up in reply, nodded and hoped it would suffice the man as she continued on her way to the front door. He hurried to catch up with her and held the door open for, and as he got closer, she recognised him from the briefing files. He was Brendan Davies and he was the head of the shipping department. He was someone she needed to get close to.

She nodded in thanks to him for holding the door, but came up short as she saw what was to come next. There were what looked like two lines of security, one after the other. The first was a bag check after which there was a body scanner followed by the keycard swipe and identity check. She steeled herself, trying to act naturally despite being scared of being caught out, as if she did this everyday as a formality.

“You ok, Pam?” Brendan asked as he went to the checkpoint next to her and she placed her bag on the table ready to the searched. She turned to him as the guard looked through her bag and gestured to her throat with a look of discomfort on her face. “Ah, bad throat?” She nodded and picked up her bag when the guard told her he had finished with it. “Another wild weekend with the parrot, eh?” She laughed tightly and evolved into coughing to try and show her discomfort. “Steady there,” he looked concerned and she pulled back her coughing fit, satisfied she had laid the groundwork for her ‘sore throat story’. It needed to be believable, after all, the mimic devices only altered the outside form to the observer. Underneath she still looked and spoke the same. She couldn’t afford to be found out.

She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, card in hand as she stepped up to the body scanner, trying not to look as anxious as she felt as she ran her eyes over it apprehensively. The guard on the other side waved her through and she stepped through with a small smile.

The alarm went off and the guard asked her to step to the side while he ran his handheld metal detector over her body. The device beeped as the man waved it over her chest.

Right where the mimic device was planted on her skin. She watched the guard with wide eyes, barely breathing as she waited for him to search her.

“Oh, come on, Mike,” Brendan called across from his checkpoint. “It’s Pam, you’ve seen her everyday since you started!” He joined them, shouldering his own bag as he came to talk to them. The guard gave a little shy smile and a quick glance to the side before quickly waving them past him with a chuckle.

Giving him a little laugh and a smile as she moved past him, Elizabeth had to suppress the breath of relief she so desperately wanted to release and boarded the elevator with Brendan. He pushed the button and they rode the lift in silence until they reached their floor. Elizabeth tried to remember the floor maps in order to get to her office without arousing suspicion. _Straight on, past three cubicles, then left, past two cubicles, right and straight down to the end. Swipe keycard, enter 4592, proceed in to office on left, remember why the hell you are doing this._

The elevator dinged and she bade Brendan farewell before executing the journey she had just mapped out in her mind. She closed the door to the office behind her and heaved a sigh of relief. She’d managed to infiltrate the company, now she had to find evidence for Woolsey. She sat behind the desk and started looking around the desk for clues. Everything was neatly tidied in to piles, drawers and folders. _Shouldn’t be too hard to find something here,_ she thought to herself, thumbing through the papers.

The door opened, making her jump a mile as Brendan poked his head around the door. “Oh God, sorry, Pam,” he chuckled. “Just needed to drop this off to go in the post this morning,” he waved a file in the air before coming in, dropping it in a tray on the right of her desk as she gave him a thumbs up sign and smiled as he left again.

She waited until she saw his shadow moved off down the hallway against the blinds before taking the paper and reading it through. It was a shipping manifest and she recognised the address for _‘Medi-For-All’_ company she was currently sat in. The sender’s address was for a place just outside of Colorado Springs. She frowned at the shipped items listed: _Saline 4625_. She glanced around to check no-one was watching and pulled out her phone to take a picture and sent it to Woolsey.

She pulled out one of the folders on the desk which had ‘Invoices’ written on the spine and flicked through the papers, seeing more items shipped from the address outside of Colorado made Elizabeth frown. What was being shipped from the Springs to New York? What was ‘Saline 4625’?

She stopped as she read _‘Carapaces, Dung Beetle’._ That was one of the things from her briefing. It was a code that the SGC were using for shipping nanites to research companies without arousing too much suspicion. What the hell were nanites doing outside of the Stargate program? After what had happened to her with Niam the SGC had put a moratorium on releasing nanites to any companies on Earth for research. All research was to be done on Atlantis. Or, since they’d been kicked out of their home, on SGC premises. She took a photo of that invoice and the few behind it which specified _4625_ again and sent them off to Woolsey.

She heard the deep throaty chuckle of a man coming closer. She hurriedly replaced the folder and threw her phone in to her bag, opening a drawer to look like she was busy as the door to the office opened.

“Pam? Could you come in my office and take some notes?” She nodded without looking up and grabbed the notepad and pen on the left hand side of the desk before following the man and his companion out, down the hall to the left and in to a large spacious office. The door opened out to a beautiful view of the city through ceiling high windows and facing away from it and into the room was an imposing looking desk with a large office chair behind it. She stood in front of the desk with the other gentleman she didn’t recognise and looked up at the owner of the desk.

Straight in to the eyes of Simon’s father, George Wallace, CEO of _Medi-For-All._

Her breath caught in her throat. What if he recognised her? It had been years since she had last seen him, but she had been with his son for a long time, surely he would see something in her eyes. Listening to her instincts as John had told her to, Elizabeth could feel that there was someone else in the room, stood behind her on the other side of the wall, but feeling as if they were watching and judging her she didn’t dare turn to look at them.

The man next to her sat down and the movement jarred her enough to remind her to sit as well. She kept her eyes downcast on her note pad and began to write as the men began to talk and it quickly became apparent he, James Andrews, was the head of the research department. They started off talking about mundane things like the budget for the department’s budget and equipment they needed.

Then the conversation turned to a topic which piqued Elizabeth’s interest. George asked for a run down on the results for the current projects and James started off by discussing a few drugs which were in the final stages of testing and were simply waiting for the results in order to finalize the product.

Then George asked about the nanites and Elizabeth had to be careful to keep her composure as they talked. She was quite surprised how openly they spoke about them, no code words, no innuendo, just straight talking. Elizabeth supposed they had no reason to be suspicious of anyone who might be listening in. She was, after all, a trusted employee who had worked at the company for just under eighteen years in eyes. She could only hope that they continued to think that way. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a burly man stood behind the door, gazing at them impassively but still exuding an ominous atmosphere.

James told George that they needed more scientists versed in the nanite coding in order to make any more progress, but that the preliminary results seemed promising. Elizabeth wondered briefly if they would approach Rodney for a job now that he was, technically, back on the market. He’d probably jump at the chance to get out of Area 51.

“How about the _4625_? Showing promise?” George asked, looking down at the papers in front of him and fiddling with a pen as he spoke.

“Very, I can’t begin to tell you how excited we are about this one, sir,” James practically lit up at the mention of this project, sitting forward in his chair like a puppy for a treat. “We originally only thought it would work for Alzheimer’s, but the tests we’ve run so far seem to indicate it could have far more potential. We might be able to use it to treat Dementia, Schizophrenia, epilepsy…maybe even other diseases un-related to the brain with the right combination of drugs!”

“That is exciting,” George agreed with a smile. Elizabeth knew that look, she could practically see he dollar signs rolling in his eyes. “I’ll be sure to give Kavanagh a little boost after his next delivery,” the two shared a laugh. “Next drop should be in a few days, you still have enough to work with?”

“Yes, sir, should be enough,” he confirmed.

“Great, if there’s nothing else?” George asked. James shook his head and both men stood and shook hands over the desk as they said their goodbyes before James left. “Pam? I need you to escort some police officers up in a little while, they should be here at about twelve, ok?” She nodded and hurried out the door when George sat back down and picked up the phone.

She returned to her office and glanced over the notes she’d taken, rubbing her brow to try and relieve the tension building there. She looked at the watch on her wrist: 09:40. Plenty of time to grab a coffee from the kitchenette she knew was in the main office area then head down to meet the police. She only wished she could tell them what she’d found.

*_*_*_*


	12. Out

After returning to the crime scene and signing out the book they needed, Castle had returned to the station to find Beckett and Sheppard ready to leave, and Ryan and Esposito finishing off a speech about what they had found at Simon’s workplace.

“Hey bro, where you been?” Ryan asked, perched on the back of Castle’s chair as Ryan flipped his notebook shut.

“Yeah,” Esposito slapped him lightly on the shoulder and gave a nod of his head in Kevin’s direction. “He missed you.”

“Of course we…” Ryan turned to him and pushed him off balance, looking like someone had just stolen his favourite toy.

“Now, now children, Uncle Castle still loves you both very much,” he told them in his best embarrassing ‘dad’ voice.

“Woah, dude! Remember the line!” Esposito told him as he and his partner walked away, bumping fists as they went.

“Remember, I want that background check on this Boris and the detail report of the car we found!” Beckett called after them. “Right, now you’re here, let’s go,” she picked up the file from her desk and she and John swept past him, heading to the elevator.

“Wait! Go?” Castle hurried after them. “Go where?”

*_*_*

They pulled up to the tall glass building with Castle still trying to skim read in the front passenger seat. On the drive, they had filled him in briefly on what the boys had found out about Simon: a nice, quiet guy, very focussed on his work, and with no real enemies. The one key piece of information that had popped up was that his father was the CEO of the company he worked for. As such, they decided it was worth a visit to see if they could dig up anything else. As they had been told on the phone, a woman met them outside the font door to guide them in.

John stopped as he looked at the woman, glancing over her as if there was something not quite right about her in his eyes. Kate watched as their eyes locked for a few seconds, and she thought he was about to say what was bothering him when Castle walked in to the back of him, nose still in his book.

“Oh! Sorry!” he apologised, closing the book slowly and pressing his lips together in embarrassment. 

“I told you to leave that in the car!” Beckett berated him. 

“You want me to find out the connection? Then I need to read at every opportunity,” he told her petulantly. “Besides, I’m normally very good at reading and walking.”

“The bruise on my back would say otherwise,” John teased. Castle gave him a withering look as the woman indicated they should follow her.

The lady led them through security, up to the nineteenth floor, and past some gray panelled cubicles. Then they were taken through yet another security door and in to a large office with ceiling high windows.

“Good morning, Dr. Wallace. I’m Detective Kate Beckett,” Kate introduced herself, reaching out over the desk to shake hands with the businessman. “This is Richard Castle and Colonel Sheppard,” she gestured to the men respectively and they both shook hands with Dr. Wallace. As Dr Wallace spoke, Kate took a moment to inspect the room a little more, and her eyes caught on a large, dark, silent figure standing against the back wall of the room briefly, before Dr Wallace’s voice drew her back to the conversation.

“Good morning, please,” he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat. Pam? Could you get another chair for Colonel Sheppard?”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling. “I’m fine standing.”

“Really? It’s no trouble,” George offered helpfully, but Sheppard politely waved off his offer. “Would you like a tea or a coffee, then?”

“Ooo, I’d love a…” Castle stopped short when he spotted Beckett glaring at him out of the corner of his eye and piped down.

“Hopefully, we won’t take up too much of your time, sir,” she told him kindly. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions about your son.”

“Simon?” George looked puzzled. “Why? He’s not in trouble is he?”

“You don’t know? The officer who rang should have told you,” Kate was getting the sinking feeling that this conversation was about to get awkward and exchanged a quick, uncomfortable glance with Castle.

“Told me what?” George asked, sounding unsure as to whether he wanted to really know, his smile faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Wallace, but Simon was found dead at his home in the early hours this morning. We believe he may have been killed for something he was working on here,” Beckett explained gently. “Is there anything you can think of that someone might have killed him for?”

“He’s dead?” George muttered, the shock of the situation settling over him. He stood and walked to the windows, one hand on his hip, the other on his forehead as he gazed out over the city.

“Dr. Wallace?” Kate asked softly.

“Sorry, it’s a…shock to say the least,” he sniffed and rubbed his hand over his face, taking another few seconds to collect himself before coming back to the table to sit with them. “We, uh, we work with a lot of classified material here,” he paused to swallow, and when John noticed his eyes were filled with tears he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. “Simon, in particular. Most of it I can’t divulge to you, for obvious reasons, but all of it is extremely valuable.”

Kate sighed in annoyance, rapidly starting to hate the word ‘classified’ and its implications to her investigation. 

“Is there anything you can tell us? Did he have any disagreements with anyone in the company? Any problems lately?”

“Uh, well, a few to be honest,” George sighed, as eyebrows raised at the admission. “I sent him home yesterday because he started an argument with some of his colleagues. He started accusing them of stealing his work ad wanting him ‘out of the picture,’ or so he said. I told him that he had been working too hard lately and that he needed to go home and rest. Take a few days off, you know?” His voice caught in his throat, “Oh God…Was he right? Did one of themdo this?” He looked to the three people in front of him as if they could provide immediate answers for him.

“We’re not sure yet, Dr. Wallace, but we’ll need a list of all of the employees in Simon’s department, and if you could give us the names of the people he was fighting with yesterday, that would be a great help,” Beckett laid out exactly what she needed from him so that he would remember through the shock of today.

“Of course,” he gestured over to Pam in the corner by the door. “My secretary will give you everything you need.” Kate looked over to John who nodded and followed Pam out of the office. The man behind them caught her attention, watching John leave as if he wanted to follow him. She studied him while Castle asked if there were anything else George could tell them that may help the investigation.

The burly man by the back wall was obviously a body guard, she decided, judging from the gun holstered on his right hip underneath his black jacket and the grommet in his ear with the wire that curled down the side of his neck and under the collar of his suit. She turned her attention back to conversation as George told Richard about the weeks leading up to yesterday, reminding herself to do a background check on the man in black later.

“A couple of weeks ago, I caught him trying to take some paperwork home. He denied it, said it was a mistake, and he put it back, but I told him if it happened again, I would have to report it as a potential data loss. He called in sick for the next few days, and eventually I went round to see him,” he sighed. “I found him holed up in his office, curtains closed, about twenty messages on his answering machine and working like a mad man on something. I talked some sense in to him, and next day he was at work, a little more isolated than usual, but no problems. Then he started acting increasingly paranoid. One of his co-workers came to me and told me that Simon was saying people were watching him, following him, but I just brushed it off until the debacle yesterday. After that, I had to take action. We argued, and I told him he was being irrational so I sent him home. Unfortunately, he decided not to go quietly, so I had security escort him to his car,” George sighed heavily and pointed to the man at the back of the room. “Mr. Stankovic here saw to it.”

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Wallace. I’m sorry for your loss.” Beckett stood, getting ready to leave and prompting Castle to do the same. “Mr. Stankovic, could we have a word outside, please?”

The three of them stepped out into the hallway, leaving the grieving father alone in his office. “Could you take me through what happened last night, please?”

“Yes. I escorted Dr. Wallace down to the labs after report of disturbance.” The large man had a thick Eastern European accent, possibly Russian, Kate thought. “His son was shouting, very angry, and after arguing with his father, I took him out of labs to his car. Then I watch him drive away.”

“Very…succinct,” Castle said glibly after a brief pause looking to Kate for a reaction.

“Right. Thank you for that, Mr. Stankovic. We’ll be in touch.” The body guard nodded to them and returned to Dr. Wallace’s office. “OK, let’s find Sheppard.”

“Here!” John stepped out from an office on the right of the corridor behind them, waving a folder filled with papers. Pam stepped out in front of him as John held the door open, and Castle watched as their eyes briefly caught and a smile passed between them.

“Hey, you OK?” He heard Beckett dimly, so caught up in the tiny moment he had witnessed between two people. A slap to his chest snapped him out of it, “Hey, let’s go!”

~~~~

Elizabeth retreated to her office and, as the youth termed it, ‘headdesked’ in relief. That had been a close call. She had managed to evade John’s questions, still feigning a sore throat. He’d watched her closely as she worked, putting more pressure on her to make it look natural and not slip up. Her fingers had typed the password too quickly, and she had mis-typed ‘Whiskas12Georgie08’ at first, but quickly deleted it and re-typed it without issue. He kept watching her, as if he knew she was not who she said she was, and she kept avoiding making prolonged eye contact, printing off what she had been asked. She tried not to panic as she realised that she didn’t know how to find out who it was that Simon had fought with. Hopefully, they wouldn’t check until after they had gone. 

She did, however, print off a few of the invoices she had found while she had been poking around the computer that morning and included them in the pile of papers she handed John in a manila folder. She wasn’t sure whether she should have done that or not, but she felt John should have all the information she could possibly give him without knowing it was her. He had thanked her, but as she escorted them all out of the building, she felt his eyes on her back, sending a shiver down her spine. She hoped that with all the information she had gathered so far that she would be out of this mess by the end of the day, but her lunch time meeting with Woolsey would determine that. Not long after they had left, she had been asked to bring the car around for George, and she could only imagine how devastated he was over the death of his son. He had been so proud of Simon, following in his father’s footsteps and helping with the business.

At the start of her lunch break, she headed down to the Costa Coffee on the ground floor of the adjoining building, and ordered herself a cappuchino and tuna pasta salad. She then went to sit with Richard Woolsey who was sat by the far window that looked out over the plaza. 

“What else have you found?” he asked quickly but quietly.

“Oh, thank you. I’m fine by the way,” Elizabeth replied sarcastically making Richard roll his eyes. “John was here.”

“What?!”

“It’s fine. I don’t think he recognised me,” she reassured him. “They talked to George about Simon. Apparently he had been acting more and more erratically over the last few weeks. Yesterday he was sent home after picking a fight over something.”

“Do we know what yet?”

“Here.” She dug into her handbag and handed over photocopies of her notes from that morning. “Why is the Deadalus still making trips to Pegasus?”

“Why?”

“Because Kavanagh’s shipping something back to Earth but not sending it to the SGC. They’re working with nanites here, Richard,” Elizabeth stressed in a stage whisper. The noise in the café was drowning most of the conversation out, but they still needed to keep a modicum of secrecy. “There’s something else, though that has them far more excited than the nanites. Something called Saline 4625? It’s all in my notes, but whatever is coming back from Pegasus is big, Richard.”

“OK, we’ll go over these notes and the pictures you sent back as quickly as possible,” Richard told her. “I need you to go back in there and find me anything else you can. Have a look through the computer records and see what you can find.”

“You want me to go back in there?!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Richard told her flatly. “We need as much information as you can get for us. We acquired all of the security information so you would be able to have full access to what we need.”

“Dare I ask how you ‘acquired’ that information?” she remarked into her coffee.

“We have the real Pam Alders in custody, but once we had explained our position and what we intended to accomplish, she was very forthcoming,” Richard explained quietly, eyes shifting around the room until they stopped on a figure reading a newspaper on the other side of the cafe.

Elizabeth looked over and saw George’s bodyguard, Boris, trying to subtly watch them from the entrance while he waited for another gentleman dressed in black who was in the queue for the till.

“I should get back to the office,” Elizabeth told him slowly, finishing her coffee in one go and rising from the table. “I’ll finish the day, Richard, but that’s it. I’ll get you what I can, but one of these people killed Simon. I want out!”

“I know,” Richard held up his hands to try and calm her down. “If you find out what this Saline 4625 is, then you should leave immediately, all right? There’ll be a car waiting outside for you at 16:00. Do not be late.”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can find.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and left the café, scanning her security pass at the entrance that led back in to the company’s building. She smiled at the young security guard who had scanned her this morning, and he smiled back almost shyly and allowed her to carry on through the lobby towards the elevators.

~~~~

Beckett threw the folder on to the desk and sighed in annoyance. There seemed to be no leads on the case.

After leaving Dr. Wallace’s office, they had headed down to the labs and spoken to the people who were on the list who had argued with Simon. All of them confirmed that Simon had initiated the argument yesterday, but that none of them had responded to his claims that they were stealing his work or wanting him ‘out of the picture’. They had also all alibi-ed out, attending a charity ball last night with their respective partners. Kate couldn’t help but think she was missing something, but another look at the murder board proved unhelpful.

“So, no new leads from the company,” John grumbled, leaning on the chair beside Kate’s desk, hanging his head. His head snapped up when Castle, nose still in the book, dropped in to the chair, seemingly oblivious to everything else.

“I think I’ve figured it out,” Castle told them. “I think Simon might have been working on a cure for Alzheimer’s.”

“Why’s that?” John asked.

“We found this book in a section of the bookshelf which seems to be dedicated to it,” Castle explained. “And, this book in particular talks about Alzheimer’s and the ethics of different treatments. Maybe that’s what Simon was worried about. Maybe a treatment they’re working on isn’t on the level?” John looked puzzled and moved round to pick up the folder from Beckett’s desk, flicking through the pages quickly. “What?” Castle asked.

“I thought I saw something in here,” John said distractedly, still leafing through the sheets.

“I thought you’d already been through those,” Beckett asked.

“I only got a quick look in the car before I had to put it down.” At their silence, John glanced up at them, looking a little uncomfortable as he gave a little shrug. “What? I get car-sick.”

“Seriously? You’re a fighter pilot, man!” Castle exclaimed in amazement making John glare at him.

“Here, look at these.” John took out a few sheets of paper and laid them on the desk. They were different from the long list of people and their contact details that filled the front of the folder. “They’re invoices.”

“What?” Beckett straightened out one of the sheets so she could see it better. Castle stood up and came to stand next to John as they looked at the invoices. “Why would Dr. Wallace’s secretary give you these?”

“I knew she had her eye on you,” Castle teased. “Always gotta watch out for the cougars,” he teased quietly, hoping Beckett wouldn’t hear. The glare he received told him otherwise.

“Look at the addresses,” John obviously hadn’t heard him as he continued to look over the papers. “They all come from the same place, just outside of…”

“…Outside of where?” Beckett probed.

“I gotta make a call. Back in a sec.” Sheppard picked up the invoices and disappeared into one of the siderooms, closing all the blinds and the door.

“Well, that was weird,” Castle remarked, both still watching the door. “Why would he…Woah! Where are you going?” He asked, stepping in front of Beckett as she started walking to the room John had just commandeered. “Obviously he wants some privacy. You can’t just go barging in there!”

“Right now, in this investigation, there is no privacy, all right?” Beckett told him. “If it has anything to do with it whatsoever, I wanna know about it! Now get out of my way, Castle!” She stormed past him and pushed the door open, expecting it to be locked, Castle not far behind.

They moved slowly into the room, looking everywhere to find the man who they had just seen walk in there. He was no-where to be seen.

Castle gaped in amazement, “Oh! That is so cool!”

~~~~~~


	13. Pieces Coming Together

John was greeted on the Apollo by General O’Neill, surprised by the speed with which they had been brought together. 

“General,” he nodded in greeting.

“Colonel, what have you done with the Doctor this time?”

“Lost her, sir,” John replied, ignoring the teasing and thrusting the papers in his hands at the other man. “What do you know about this?” Jack eyed the papers sceptically then took hold of them, reading them quickly. He looked up at John with an expectant expression on his face and waited for John to explain a bit more. “We were given these by the secretary of a pharmaceutical company which is run by Simon Wallace’s father.”

“Why?” Jack questioned.

“I don’t know. We didn’t realise until we were back at the precinct, but that’s not the point, sir.” John stood next to the General and pointed to the top of the papers. “Look, they all come from an address just outside of the SGC. Dr. Wallace said that a lot of what they were working on was classified. Now I know that that means they are working on something for us, but I don’t know what. Can you find out what contracts they had for us?”

“Wait, you think someone’s smuggling classified materials out of the SGC and giving it to a pharmaceutical company to experiment with?”

“Yes, sir, and I think they may have killed Simon Wallace in order to keep their secret.” John watched as the General raised his eyebrows in intrigue and shuffled through the papers.

“Ok, give me a sec.” Jack took the papers and started leaving the room.

“Thank you, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved the papers over his shoulder as he left the room. John couldn’t keep still as he waited. Despite it only being a matter of minutes, it felt like hours as he rocked back and forth chewing the side of his thumb.

Jack soon returned with a slightly amused look on his face. 

“Well, you were right…partly. There was a contract with Dr. Wallace’s company to work with a plant we found in the Pegasus galaxy.”

“You said partly,” John said looking excited.

“Yeah, their contracts were cancelled a few weeks ago, though. Seems the IOA decided that the world the plant was found on relied on it to sustain the planet and removing it would radically alter the ecosystem. We can’t provide the hostile environment it needs to grow here, so they called it off,” Jack chuffed a laugh and handed the papers back to John. “Who knew the IOA had hearts?”

John smiled in reply, “What about the addresses?”

“Seems to be a warehouse not far from the mountain, we’re tracing the owners,” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So, what? They were shipping it back from Pegasus and somehow smuggling it out to the warehouse?” John asked.

“We’ll find out when the Daedalus arrives in a few hours.” Jack had that quietly superior look on his face which always meant trouble for someone else. “I plan on having a team at the building when the Daedalus arrives, and Caldwell’s been briefed to look for suspicious transporter activity too so we can take whoever it is in to custody when it happens.” Both men shared a satisfied smile of understanding and a little laugh. “Now, get back down there and find the good doctor, would you? We can’t find her subcutaneous transmitter anywhere. Rodney said something about interference or something.”

“You spoke to Rodney? I’ve been trying to get hold of him for hours!”

“Yeah, there’s something they’re working on in Area 51 that blocks most radio-waves or something. He told me to tell you that the mark on the gun you found is an old symbol that the IOA used. They must have been there before you; they might have Elizabeth,” Jack told him.

“Fuck!” John swore under his breath. “Don’t suppose you have Woolsey’s cell number do you?”

“’Fraid not,” Jack chuckled. “She’s down there John, and she’s leaving you clues. You’ll find her.” Jack smiled, but before John could respond he got the technician to beam him back.

*_*_*_*

“Hey! You’re back!” Ryan called to them from across the office, drawing their attention away from the empty room John Sheppard had walked in to not a minute before. 

“Uh, yeah,” Beckett replied distractedly, coming out of the room in a sort of daze along with Castle who looked like a kid who had seen his first NASCAR race.

“What’s up with you, bro?” Esposito asked curiously as they came closer.

“Sheppard just walked in here,” Castle told them excitedly and pointed at the room. “I mean, literally, just! And I’m a writer, so when I say literally, I mean literally!”

In tandem, Ryan and Esposito approached the room cautiously, keeping a wary eye on Castle as they moved to look in the room as though they were waiting for a trap. They looked around the room, then turned to him looking pissed off that they’d been duped. 

“That is so not cool, dude!” Esposito told him as both he and Ryan walked out and flicked his ear.

“No, he’s telling the truth guys,” Beckett told them as she sat back down at her desk. “He walked in there, shut the door and the blinds, and when we opened the door he was gone!” She dropped her head in to her hands and growled in frustration.

There was an awkward pause before Ryan piped up with a suggestion. 

“Maybe if we close it again, he’ll come back?” He looked around at everyone, from Esposito’s unimpressed expression to Castle’s curious raised brow. As the other two moved over to Beckett, Ryan closed the door quietly, hoping no-one would notice.

“Saw that!” Esposito told him without looking up as he rejoined the rest of the group.

“You got the security videos from the lab, right?” Beckett asked, to which Esposito nodded. “Did you get a chance to go over them?”

“Yeah, looks as if everything happened exactly as they said it did,” Esposito said as he perched on the corner of Beckett’s desk.

“Except the bodyguards did a little more than just ‘escort’ Simon to his car,” Ryan continued. “The footage seems to show the bodyguard having ‘a few words’ with him.” He did little quotation marks in the air which made Castle chuckle.

“Show me,” Beckett ordered them. Esposito quickly turned to her computer and found the file which the AV lab had put on the server for them. They watched the video through which showed two security guards leading Simon through the halls of the lab and down to the car park beneath the building as was expected. Once they reached the car, however, the main guard, who Beckett recognised as Mr. Stankovich from George Wallace’s office earlier that day, shoved the doctor up against the side of the car and leant over him, seemingly speaking to him sternly while the other guard stood watch. Simon seemed to reply, but Stankovich slammed him against the car again until Simon was nodding fearfully. Stankovich finally let him go with a rough shove and brushed him down while Simon stood there timidly. Then, the second guard got in to the driver’s seat and Simon in the back, and they drove off.

“Well, I think it’s clear we need to go talk to Mr. Stankovich again,” Castle quipped. “With you guys this time.”

“Right, we’ll go find him when Colonel Sheppard gets back.” Beckett glanced at the door, the others following suit. “What did you find out from your chat with the senator?”

“Well, the senator was at Castle’s party last night and didn’t leave until after we did, which was about half eleven, so he alibi-ed out, but he said that his daughter Lisa had been seeing someone in secret,” Ryan read from his notebook.

“Yeah, we know that,” Beckett said impatiently, running her hands through her hair.

“I know, but he also said that they’d spoken with the boyfriend, and told him that he would never be able to be with Lisa,” Esposito continued. “Turns out the other guy wanted Lisa to divorce Simon, but she wouldn’t. Said that it would damage her father’s reputation too much.”

“Right, well Lisa mentioned someone in her interview…” Beckett started rootling around her desk for her notes.

“Boris,” Castle told them, reading through the list of employees from the company. “More to the point, Boris Stankovich,” he announced as he turned the page he was looking at round to face them which showed a picture of Dr. Wallace’s bodyguard.

“Wait, you think Lisa Forrester is dating Dr. Wallace’s bodyguard?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Castle defended. “Look, it’s not that much of a stretch that Simon’s wife would have met his father’s bodyguard, is it? And let’s face it, how many Borises do you know?”

“Ok, so if we assume the coincidence is correct…” Beckett trailed off. She stood and moved over to the murder board as a light behind the blinds caught her eye, followed by John Sheppard marching out, papers in hand.

“How did you do that?!” Castle exclaimed excitedly as John approached Beckett’s desk.

“Classified, I’m afraid,” he glanced at Ryan with a small smile. “But if it helps you sleep better: magic. What are you putting on the board?”

“Mr. Boris Stankovic, Dr. Wallace’s bodyguard and potentially Lisa Wallace’s lover,” she explained slowly, crossing her arms and turning to look at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“You know I can’t tell you, so why bother getting worked up over it?” John told her flatly, making her look more annoyed. “Looks like the company were illegally importing a plant for research, shipping it under Saline 4625.”

“Right, so we need to head back to Medi-For-All,” Castle concluded, trying to defuse Beckett’s anger at having information withheld from her and John’s stubbornness to say nothing. Ryan and Esposito stayed silent, glancing tensely between Beckett and Sheppard while they stared each other down. John sighed and straightened, breaking the contact first, but he wasn’t conceding to Beckett’s glare. He stood there with a confidence that screamed that he was right to be this secretive and that there was no way Beckett would break his silence.

Beckett sighed angrily, knowing they couldn’t waste time with all this posturing when there was a murderer out there and a woman being held hostage. 

“Ok! Let’s go!” She grabbed her jacket, casting John another scowl, taking her time while the others went on ahead.

“He’s not going to tell you anything,” Castle quietly pointed out from behind her. “You heard what the General said, if this is classified and Sheppard’s involved, then he’s right to be as schtum as he is.”

“Schtum?” Kate looked at him oddly.

“Yeah, y’know, keep quiet, silent…”

“I know what it means Castle; it’s just weird to hear you saying it,” she teased, checking her weapon, spare clip and badge, while on the other side of the room, Sheppard answered his phone.

“I’m expanding my horizons,” he smiled, making her laugh. “You should do that more.”

Kate looked away from him, the wall and her feet suddenly becoming very interesting to her. 

“Castle…”

“Just…say you’ll try,” he moved off to gather with the others at the elevator, leaving Kate with a small smile on her face.

*_*_*_*

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I can't believe that I'm writing this at all! I was starting to worry if I'd made a mistake signing up for this, but eventually the story just took off and grew on it's own accord. Thank you so much to my beta's dreximgirl for her constant support and hiddencait for her emergency beta-ing services. Thank you to all the cheerleaders as well, your support and encouragement really did make a difference on the home straight! :-) Thank you to my artist, oparu, for picking my story and for the wonderful work that I await with baited breath. And lastly, thank you to irony_rocks for running this challenge superbly! You are made of so much win! Please leave feedback not just for my story, but all of the other wonderful pieces! Hope you enjoy!


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